Padded Cell For One*
by veronica lupin
Summary: 5th year: "Just b/c you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you." When Harry starts receiving strange letters, the question arises: Is a trip to St. Mungo's in order for our hero? Read, find out and review!
1. Life isn't so bad....

Chapter 1 ****

Disclaimer: Guess how much of this I own? Nothing. Pity really. If I did, I promise you I would own more than some CDs and a karate gi. But I don't; alas, JKR does. 

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Author's Note: This is my first fanfic. I was bored and that is when I started to write. Please go easy on me. I do appreciate feedback and I hope you enjoy this. Chapter 1 is, of course, just the beginning. The real plot will start to come in the next chapter. I take suggestions and constructive criticism. Thanks and happy reading. 

Chapter 1

If sleep was for the weak, then Harry was the strongest person on the face of the earth. He had hardly slept a wink since he got back to Privet Drive and his muggle relatives. No one could blame him though. It was hard for Harry to get over what had happened during the third task. He had lost a friend and his worst enemy had returned. Harry had a strong spirit, but all of these depressing events had taken a toll. 

It was almost 3 am. Harry sighed. He knew that he would get about 3 hours of sleep and then wake up, unrested, to face the onslaught of chores that the Dursleys always had for him. They didn't know what had happened to Harry, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference to them. They would be disappointed that Voldemort didn't kill him as well. 

Things got worse for Harry even after the Triwizard Tournament mess: Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, didn't believe him! This was a slap to the face on so many levels. Not only did Fudge deny the rebirth of Voldemort, but he denounced Harry's claims as preposterous and doubted Harry's sanity. _I wish I was insane,_ thought Harry. _Then Voldemort wouldn't be alive and there wouldn't be a threat to both the wizarding world and the muggle world. _Harry shook his head and sat up. He didn't wish he was insane; what a horrible thought! Denying what happened would make him as foolish as Fudge, and he would be unwittingly helping Voldemort. 

__

I have to face this and get over my sadness, thought Harry, as he walked over to the window. _There is a lot to be done now, and something tells me I will be an important part in it. No more goofing off. It's go time. Cedric was a wonderful person and I will see to it his death wasn't in vain. _With his new resolve, Harry stood up straight and tall, and for the first time since he left Hogwarts, he let a smile creep across his face. _Things are going to change for the better; I'll see to that!_

At this point, Harry caught a glimpse of something in the sky. As it got closer, Harry realized it was about fours owls flying towards his window. He quickly opened it and prepared for their entrance. The four owls swooped down into the room and three landed on various pieces. One, however, found it more suitable to speed around the room and knock over things. 

"Get over here and cut that out, Pig!" hissed Harry. "The last thing I need is you waking up my aunt and uncle!" Harry grabbed the little ball of feathers right before it knocked over his inkwell on to his Transfiguration essay. 

"I don't know what they feed you, but they need to stop it," murmured Harry as he untied the package from its leg. Pig promptly then flew into Hedwig's cage and sat on the perch for a short break. 

Harry completely forgot that it was his birthday; he had lost all track of time since he had been trapped in his own melancholy thoughts. Harry's mood was incredibly lighter now. Life didn't seem so bad now that he remembered he had people who cared for him. Harry tore in to Ron's letter and eagerly read it.

__

Dear Harry,

I hope this letter finds you well on your birthday. I also hope those muggles aren't getting you down. Things have been crazy here! All kinds of witches and wizards have been stopping by and talking to dad. Apparently, there is some sort of underground movement being formed to prepare for You-Know-Who. Dad has been trying to find trustworthy people inside to ministry to join. Seems like a lot of people are interested; they remember how is was before when "he" was around and they don't want to go through it again. They want to be prepared. Maybe pseudo-Moody was onto something with his whole "Constant Vigilance!" routine. Dumbledore is in charge of this whole group, so things might be a bit different this year around Hogwarts. For the better I suppose. 

Anyway, enough gossip. I hope you like your present. It is from the entire family. I don't know if you'll be able to come over this summer. Dad said Dumbledore might make you stay there for some odd reason. I'll keep asking and send you word. Bye for now.

Ron

Harry was a bit sad, curious, and happy when he finished the letter. He didn't like the fact he might not be able to visit the Burrow this summer, but he supposed Dumbledore did have his reasons. He was also intrigued by the gathering of people at the Burrow. What could Dumbledore be up to? However, this was all pushed to the side when he opened his gift. It was a watch, but it was like the clock in the Weasley's house. The hands represented different people Harry knew; there was one for him, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Fred, George, and Ginny. In place of numbers, there were various locations, such as home, Hogwarts, Quidditch field, traveling, and of course the ever popular, mortal danger. At the moment, everyone's hands were pointing to home, except Sirius's, which pointed to traveling. _I guess it is a mission for Dumbledore that he is on._

Harry put the watch on and picked up the package a small screech owl was carrying. Harry could tell it was from Hermione; the neat writing on the envelope and the book-like appearance of the package were dead give-aways. Hermione's letter was a bit short than Ron's. 

__

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! How does it feel to be fifteen? Probably no different than 14. Anyway, I am leaving soon to go on a quick family trip, so I am keeping this short. I just hope that you are ok after what happened last year. Ron thinks you are doing just fine, but I can tell he isn't as convinced as he pretends to be. If you are in need of someone to talk to, we are here for you. Don't forget you also have Sirius and even Dumbledore. Well, I have to go. Enjoy the gifts and I will write you again once I get home. 

Lots of love,

Hermione

Sometimes it amazed Harry how Hermione could sense that something was wrong. Apparently, distance had no effect on this sense. He opened her gift and found two books: A History of Hogwarts and Winning Quidditch Strategies. _I think she is trying to tell me something with these._ Harry laughed to himself and set the books on his desk. He figured he would have plenty of time to read them if he couldn't go to the Burrow. 

The next package he opened came from a tawny barn owl. Harry recognized it as one of the school's owls. There were two letters also with the package. He opened one of them and found it was from Hagrid. 

__

Hey there Harry!

Happy Birthday! I stopped by Hogwarts briefly so that I could send you a gift. Right now I am in the middle of an assignment for Dumbledore. It is a dozy, but that is all I can say. Enjoy your gift and I will see you this fall.

Hagrid

Harry poked the gift. It didn't move. That was definitely a good sign. Hagrid's twisted sense of what animals were dangerous kept Harry and his friends on their toes. After the biting book incident, Harry used caution when dealing with Hagrid's gifts. He carefully unwrapped the gift. _Still not moving; this is good_, thought Harry. When he got the paper completely off, Harry was awestruck. The gift turned out to be a beautiful box about the size of a small brick with intricate designs and runes etched into it. It also had 3 different locks on it. Harry picked it up and noticed there was another envelope on the bottom. In side was a note from Hagrid and 3 keys. The note explained that each key unlocked one of three different compartments in the box. 

"Hey! This is like Moody's trunk!" he exclaimed. Harry tried it out. He unlocked the first lock and opened the box. To make sure it was what he thought it was, Harry wrote "1" on a scrap piece of parchment and placed it in the box. He closed it and opened the second lock. When he opened it, there was no piece of paper. _Hagrid really outdid himself this time._

Harry interest was diverted when he realized there was the second letter that still had to be opened. He had no idea what it was, but figured it was from someone at Hogwarts since a school owl brought it. Harry opened the letter and read.

__

Mr. Potter,

Salutations on your day of days. Unfortunately, I must be the bearer of bad news, but please do not hold this against me. I am afraid that you will not be able to visit your friend Mr. Weasley this summer. Great precautions have been taken to protect you where you are. Understand that this is for your own good. Perhaps you can spend your extra time preparing for this coming school year. I promise you, it will be unlike any other. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. You are to stay with you aunt and uncle until the new year begins. Sorry, but trust me.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Even in spite of this news, Harry was not upset. He understood that Dumbledore had some plan and that he should do as the wise wizard said. Harry had survived longer periods of time with the Dursleys; he could survive the whole summer. Not that it would be easy but he would survive. Besides, Harry was sure he could at least meet up with his friends in Diagon Alley when he got his supplies for next year. 

This left one more gift. It was from Sirius; Harry knew because Hedwig was carrying it, and she had been sent to deliver a note to his godfather. With this thought, Harry looked at his new watch. Sirius was still traveling. _I wonder what he is up to. _His attention then turned to the letter.

__

Hey Harry

Happy Birthday to the world's greatest godson! How is life treating you? Not well judging from your letters. What happened wasn't your fault and there was nothing that you could've done to prevent it. We all have to look forward and face the danger head on. Everyone has a part to play, and so do you.

Cheer up! Remus and I have worked hard on your gift. Actually Remus did a bit more work, but I thought of it. Besides, I've been busy doing stuff for Dumbledore. I hope you like it. Keep in touch. I'm sure we'll see each other soon enough. 

Love,

Sirius

Harry finished the letter, and thought for a moment. What was Sirius playing at in the letter? He said Harry had a part to play, and hinted that they would see each other soon. _Well, I hope he visits soon. The Dursleys aren't much company and I might not see Ron or Hermione any time soon. Oh well………_

He unwrapped Sirius's gift. It was a scrapbook. Harry already had one from Hagrid with pictures of his parents in it. He wondered what was in this one. Harry opened it and as he leafed through the first few pages, tears sprang up in his eyes. There were more than just pictures in this scrapbook; Sirius and Remus had put in letters that his parents had written. Harry was beside himself as he looked at his parents' writing and heard their voices in a different context. Before, he had only heard his parents' frantic screams and pleading voices; now he heard happiness and joy. This was definitely the best present. 

It was now about 4:30 am. Harry finally felt tired. He let all the owls out except Hedwig and Pig; they were both asleep in Hedwig's cage. Harry put his presents on his desk, and crawled into bed. As his head hit the pillow, Harry drifted off into the best 4 hours of sleep he had ever gotten. Life wasn't so bad after all……


	2. Unexpected visitor, unexpected letter

Chapter 2 ****

Disclaimer: Who owns nothing? I do! I do! Who owns it all? JKR! JKR!

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Author's Note: Thanks to all who read my first chapter. All the reviews that I received made my weekend awesome. They also made me want to write something totally awesome. I think I have succeeded, but I will let you all be the judge of that. I am going to try to post new chapters every Thursday night, so be sure to check around that time. I tried to last night, but I couldn't connect to fanfiction.net. But be on the look out next Thursday. Thanks again, and enjoy. Don't forget: read and review! J 

Chapter 2

"Get up, you lazy good-for-nothing leech!"

" But professor….I didn't mean to punch Malfoy…."

"THAT'S IT!"

A feeling of weightlessness followed by a collision with the floor was all it took for Harry to realize what a bad day it was going to be. Another memorable birthday, to be sure. His uncle should have been more considerate….

"I WANT YOU DOWNSTAIRS IN TEN MINUTES!!!!" bellowed Uncle Vernon before storming out of the room.

At that point, Harry grudgingly got ready so as not to tick his uncle off anymore. When he put his glasses on, he caught a glimpse of the gifts he had received. A grin spread across his face, and Harry ran downstairs. Even though the Dursleys were sure to forget his birthday, the joke was on them; his birthday had been wonderful.

It was the usual breakfast scene. Uncle Vernon was reading the paper in an effort to calm down. Aunt Petunia was stiffly sipping her tea and resisting the temptation to spy on the neighbors. Then there was Dudley, who was stuffing his face full of bacon and with each bite, his chair began to creak more and more. The diet had failed miserably. Dudley had bullied people into giving him real food throughout the school year. Aunt Petunia still believed that he was just fine the way he was, and that the school nurse was wrong when she said Dudley would have a heart attack by the time he graduated. Harry managed to grab some bacon and toast that Dudley wasn't able to fit down his esophagus. 

"Now that you are awake, you can start on your chores for the day. The garage needs to be cleaned out and the garden needs weeding as usual. I suggest you start now because I want them done by sundown," Aunt Petunia ordered Harry while give him a look of pure disgust. The thought of not being able to completely kill Harry's spirit still bugged her. 

"Yes ma'am," mumbled Harry. He sullenly got out of his chair and headed outside. Outside the sky was cloudless, the air was warm and the grass was still wet with dew from the night before. It was a beautiful day to be doing anything but chores. 

Harry started to clean out the garage. What a mess it was! One would think that the Dursleys had trashed it just to give Harry more work to do. After throwing the trash away, sorting through the junk, and cleaning the huge oil stain off the floor, it was after noon. Something told Harry lunch was completely out of the question, so he just got a drink of water from the hose. Besides, he had to start work on the garden. 

With the sun beating down on his neck, Harry was getting into the rhythm of weed pulling; he was an expert after doing it for so long. As he pulled out the last weed (a particularly stubborn one at that), Harry heard a quiet bark from behind. Surprised, he turned around. A shaggy looking black dog was sitting there watching him, wagging its tail maniacally. 

"Sirius?" Harry said cautiously.

The dog walked behind a tree and the next second Sirius peaked around the trunk. 

"I thought that I would stop by and see my godson on his birthday," Sirius said matter-of-factly.

"Excellent! I thought that you were on some sort of assignment for Dumbledore though," Harry said.

"Well, it is ongoing. I actually got a break, so I figured I would use my time to come visit. Plus I was in the area, so I came on over in Snuffles-form."

"That would explain why every time I looked at my watch, you were traveling."

"What watch?"

Harry and Sirius sat down under the tree and talked. Harry told him about his birthday gifts from everyone. He also thanked Sirius for his gift and told him how much it meant to him. 

"Well, I am glad that you liked it so much. You needed some cheering up, and it seems as though you have. By the way, have you had any dreams recently?"

"Actually, no. That scares me, though. I don't think 'no news is good news' is a good thing in this case. At least before I had some insight into what Voldemort was up to. This is too much like the calm before the storm." The thought of all of this significantly reduced Harry's happy mood. 

"I think maybe you are being a bit pessimistic."

"Maybe. I hope so. I hate the feeling of danger approaching and being caught unprepared. Wait….. that is usually how it works out for me. Then why am I worried?" 

"Boy, I didn't catch the cynicism in that. Seriously, you know that you are well protected here; I am sure Dumbledore has told you. You know that if you have a dream, you just have to tell him or me. Don't worry. We will not let anything happen to you." Sirius put his arm around Harry in an effort to comfort him. They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Harry pondered what his godfather told him and figured it made sense. 

"I guess you are right. I'll try to take it easy. Thanks for coming to see me," Harry leaned over and gave Sirius a hug.

"I was my pleasure. There are only two things that I would have changed about this. I wish that I was free to walk up to door with fearing the authorities, and that you were not busy being a slave a for these poor excuses for humans. When I am free, I will definitely have a talk with them. But for now, I have to be on my way."

"I wish you could stay longer, but you have your assignment, I guess. Will I see you around later?"

Sirius pondered a minute. "I might be around Hogwarts a few times this year. I'll tell when I am there so we can meet up."

"Great! I'll be waiting to hear from-''

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU MISERABLE GIT AND WHY AREN'T YOU WEEDING THE GARDEN LIKE YOU WERE TOLD!??" Apparently Harry's social break hadn't gone unnoticed. Uncle Vernon must have been doing a check on his progress. 

"Was that your uncle, Harry?" Sirius asked as a mischievous smile spread across his face.

"Yeah. Call me crazy, but I think he is mad with me…" Harry stopped himself when he saw the look that had taken over Sirius' face. Things were about to get interesting….

Sirius got up and walked out from behind the tree; Harry got up and followed so he could get a good look at Uncle Vernon's' face. Oh, and what a face it was! Apparently he had good memory because Vernon recognized Sirius right off. Also at the same time, it registered that he was supposedly Harry's godfather and a wizard to boot. The color immediately drained from his face and he stood there planted in the doorway. Sirius slowly walked over, still with his smug smile on his face. 

"Vernon, so nice to meet you. I am sure you heard of me; I am Harry's godfather. The name is Sirius Black." As he said all of this, Sirius maintained his composure even though it was obvious he wanted to punch him at least once. "I just stopped by to see how things were going. I tend to do that from time to time. Oh and what a nice house you have. Yeah, it is a lot nicer than my old cell. If you ever decided you didn't want to be here anymore, I would love to help you out. It would be nice to live here. So quiet, trusting…I am sure the people here wouldn't suspect a thing…oh excuse me. I have a tendency to ramble. Well, it was nice meeting you. Happy Birthday Harry and I will visit you again. Don't forget to write." Sirius then turned around, transfigured into his animagus form and ran off. 

Harry waved good-bye and then turned to face his uncle. Vernon was still standing in the doorway, now as white as a sheet and looking as though someone used the full Body-Bind on him. It seemed as though Vernon was going to be there for a while, so Harry went around to front door and went inside. It was the early evening and Aunt Petunia was getting ready to make dinner. As he was heading upstairs, she passed by him and cast a disdainful look his way as she entered the kitchen. Right as Harry started to climb the stairs, he heard his aunt say –

"Vernon! What in the world are you doing, standing in the doorway like that? You look as though you have seen a ghost or something!"

****

The house was still and quiet that night. Maybe it was because it was almost midnight and the Dursleys were all asleep. Earlier, Petunia was able to pull Vernon back to reality, but she was unable to get him to tell her what had made him go catatonic. Harry figured that Vernon did want to upset Petunia with news of an escaped convict wizard being in their backyard and then turning into a dog. Petunia hated anything having to do with magic, and this news wouldn't have gone over well. Dinner was eaten in silence, and everyone adjourned to their rooms early. 

Harry was working on his Transfiguration essay once again (_The Theory of Animagi Transformations and How it Affects Other Forms of Transfiguration_; McGonagall apparently wasn't about to go easy on them this year.) Since he had been working so diligently, he had only five more inches to go. _Time for a break_, thought Harry. 

He pushed the parchment away and grabbed the scrapbook that Remus and Sirius sent. Many of the pictures were from his parents school days. Virtually all of them featured the four Marauders goofing off and Lily standing near just laughing. There were a few pictures showing James with the Quidditch team obviously celebrating a victory. 

However, his favorite picture was one with just his parents in it. It looked as though they were in their seventh year, and they were standing in the front door of Hogwarts. They both had their arms around each other in a tight embrace while they stared at the camera. Unlike the other pictures, there wasn't much movement; James and Lily would shift their glances from the camera to each other and embrace each other tighter every now and then. Yet, this was the most magical quality of the picture. Their love for each other was plain to see. James and Lily never wanted to let go of each other, and Harry was sure they were like this with him when they were still alive. _I am going to get a frame for this picture when I go to Diagon Alley. I want to see it everyday when I wake up._

There was light tap on the window that snapped Harry out of his trance with the picture. When he glanced up, there was nothing there on in the window. Upon closer inspection though, there was a letter sitting on the sill outside. Harry opened the window and grabbed the letter before a light breeze tried to snatch it away. He looked around outside to see whom or what had delivered it. However, the yard, the street, and the sky were all empty. _Strange….I wonder how this letter got here._

Harry went and sat back down on his bed. There was not writing on the parchment and no other distinguishing marks. There wasn't even a design on the wax seal. Though he could not explain it, a sense of foreboding filled Harry from head to toe as he opened it. He didn't recognize the writing; it was definitely from someone he didn't know or who had never written him. What he read, however, confirmed Harry's feeling.

_You did a splendid on the garden and garage today. An industrious one you are. It is good to see that your encounter with me hasn't dampened your hard-working spirit. _

How is Sirius these days? Still running from the law, I see. It would be a pity if he were caught. He plays such an important role in your life and in Dumbledore's plans. I hope you and him had a good talk today. It might have been your last.

I think this will be it for now. Don't worry; I will be in touch.

V.

All the color was gone from Harry's face and he was shaking. Perspiration covered his brow and soaked his shirt through and through.As Harry was about to read the letter again to make sure he wasn't imagining it, the letter flew out of his hand and hovered just out of his reach. Suddenly, a sickly green fire engulfed it and started to consume the letter. As it did so, Harry doubled over in pain thanks to his scar. After what seemed like an hour, the pain subsided and when he looked to where the letter was, there was nothing. No ashes even. 

_This is definitely not good,_ Harry thought before losing consciousness.


	3. From Bad to Worse

Chapter 3 ****

Author's Note: I thank you all for your reviews and whatnot. I wish I could have gotten this chapter up sooner. However, my job and other obligations kept me from doing any writing for a while. I hope you all like this chapter. Read and enjoy! Oh and thanks to a few certain people; you know who you are. J 

Chapter 3

The next thing Harry knew, light was streaming through the window and he was still lying on the floor where he passed out. A headache was pounding away in his head as he picked himself off the floor. As he stood up, Harry legs were a bit shaky; he started to fall but managed to grab hold of the edge of the desk. Slowly Harry made his way over to his bed and sat down. Even though it made the headache worse, he tried desperately to remember what had happened the night before. _A letter….someone was watching me yesterday….then the fire and the pain….what in the world is happening?!_

Harry looked at the clock. It was 10:00 a.m. _I wonder why the Dursleys haven't yelled at me yet?_ Then it hit him; yesterday Sirius had a talk with Uncle Vernon. He must have still been scared out of wits and didn't want Harry to report anything bad. This cheered Harry slightly. However, it didn't last long. There was that matter of the letter. _Must write Dumbledore! He'll know what to do. _Harry got up and walked over to the desk. He grabbed a piece of parchment and began to write.

__

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I have a bit of a problem. Last night, a letter arrived mysteriously on my windowsill. There were no markings on it once so ever. I opened it, and there were all sorts of details in it about what I did yesterday. Sirius stopped by to say hi, and the person who wrote the letter mentioned Sirius and how bad it would be if he were caught. It seemed as though they were threatening Sirius. They also said that they would write me again. There seems to be someone watching me, and that isn't the worse part. I think the person watching me is Voldemort. The letter wasn't signed; it just had a "V." And when I finished reading it, the letter flew out of my hand and caught on fire somehow. When it did, my scar started to hurt worse than ever before. Once it stopped hurting, I looked up and the letter was completely gone. Another mysterious thing was how the letter got on my windowsill. I didn't see an owl and I didn't see anyone around. It was like it just appeared. I don't understand any of this. 

Harry

Once he finished, Harry went to Hedwig. She was still asleep; apparently the events of the previous night didn't affect her. Harry gently woke her up and tied the letter to her leg. Hedwig sleepily nipped his finger and took off through the window. After he watched her disappear in the sky, he got dressed and went downstairs. _Maybe I should just stay inside today….._

*****

One week had gone by, and no more mysterious letters arrived. Harry avoided going outside, and with the Dursleys not giving him chores, this was no problem. He ended up spending most of his time surveying the neighborhood from various locals: the living room, kitchen, and his room. However, he never saw anyone unusual; Harry just saw the same old neighbors, the same old pets, and the same old mailman. Nothing was ever out of the ordinary. 

Besides keeping Privet Drive under surveillance, Harry kept a vigil at night for an answer from Dumbledore. It had been almost a week since Harry sent his letter to him. _It shouldn't take Professor Dumbledore so long to answer me, especially under the circumstances, _he thought. Needless to say for the past week, Harry had not been sleeping again. His face was drawn, and the circles under his eyes would have impressed an insomniac. 

It was 1:13 in the morning when Harry saw something in the sky heading his way. A minute later, a brown barn owl was sitting on his desk, and Harry was holding the letter that it had delivered. It was obviously from Hogwarts, but the problem was he had sent Hedwig. Where was she now? _Strange things are afoot,_ thought Harry. 

__

Dear Mr. Potter,

Something is amiss and I am not sure what happened. As you have probably guessed, I have set up certain precautions. If some unauthorized person were to come near your house, I would be alerted. However, I haven't received word of any wizard or witch paying you a visit. 

_As for the letter itself, I am not sure why Voldemort would be doing this. It couldn't have been anyone else since your scar hurt after reading it. My best advice would be to not leave your house under any circumstances. It is your best protection at the moment. Be sure to inform me of any more letters, dreams, painful scars, and the like. Do try to enjoy your summer, though._

Sincerely,

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore 

Harry definitely couldn't enjoy his summer now. Dumbledore had certain protections for Harry; that was all well and grand. Yet, he didn't know how the letter got to him or what its purpose was. If Dumbledore didn't know, who did? Harry always looked up to the wise, old wizard, and his lack of answers did not bode well. He sat down on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. The situation was bleak. On the other hand, maybe Dumbledore wasn't giving him all the details. Perhaps he wanted to get more information before telling Harry what was going down. _Yes! That has to be it. Dumbledore is never without answers._

When Harry started to reread the letter, he saw that there was a little more writing at the bottom of the parchment. 

__

P.S. Hedwig is fine. She apparently ran into harsh conditions on her journey here. She was a bit bruised and ill, but Hagrid is nursing her back to health. Once she is better, we will send her back to you. 

This relaxed Harry a bit. At least he knew his owl was safe. Hagrid was excellent with animals of all shapes and sizes, especially the really big and dangerous kind. Yet, she must have been through something terrible if she couldn't have flown back._ I hope she gets better soon._

Harry crawled into his bed and laid down. The brown owl had just flown out the window and was gliding back to Hogwarts. Harry was kind of sad to see him go. It was his only company in quite a while. In an effort to get some sleep, Harry closed his eyes and tried his best not to think of anything except Quidditch and his parents' picture. He finally did get to sleep, but it was not a restful one. He kept seeing his parents' picture being engulfed by a sickly green flame. 

*****

Sunlight was streaming through the window when Harry woke up the next morning. Amazingly, he was feeling better even with all of his problems that were still in the back of his mind. With a wizard like Dumbledore watching over him, it was hard not to feel more at ease. As he got dressed, Harry's stomach reminded him what time it was. Downstairs he went in the hope that the whale had not eaten everything. 

The kitchen table was the same old scene except for one important thing: Aunt Petunia was nowhere to be seen. Not that Harry minded the lack of her. It was just that this was abnormal, and the Dursleys saw to it that nothing abnormal happened to them ever. Harry cautiously sat down, not knowing what to think or whether to even ask his aunt's whereabouts. As he reached for the bacon, he noticed how incredibly burnt it was. The same was true for the toast. Apparently, Uncle Vernon was responsible for making breakfast, and had made it completely inedible. _Perhaps I should just fast today,_ thought Harry. 

"Um….er….where's Aunt Petunia?" Harry stammered. 

"What's it to you?" Vernon sneered. He obviously was not in a good mood after having to make his own pathetic breakfast. 

"I was just wondering. She said she had some chores for me to do today." Actually, she never mentioned any chores to him, but Harry figured it would help him get an answer out of his uncle. 

"Well, if you feel you must know (which you don't) she left before breakfast to visit a sick friend in the hospital. She got sick while you were at "that" place, and you aunt being the gracious person she is (and you aren't) goes and visits every so often. She'll be in London for a day or two. As for your chores, do the dishes, wash my car, mow the lawn, tend to the garden and clean the house. I'll think of some more jobs for you to do tomorrow." 

Harry was about to kick himself. Now he actually had a ton of chores to do. Plus, where in the world does Vernon get "gracious" from? Aunt Petunia was as gracious as a tapeworm. She probably was just hoping to get some sort of juicy secrets from whoever was sick. Seeing as how he wasn't eating, Harry got up and started washing the dishes. _It is going to be a long day. Might as well get started. _

******

That night, Harry laid on his bed staring at his ceiling. All of the chores had rendered him immobile. _If only aunt Petunia was here. I wouldn't have mentioned chores, and I could've been just a recluse. Stupid friend…had to get sick…probably doesn't even exist. She probably just wanted to get away from Vernon for a few days. _Needless to say, Harry wasn't too happy about the day's arrangements. He didn't even get to see if anyone was watching him, he was so busy. 

A sudden tapping at the window filled Harry with dread immediately. He didn't want to get up and see another mysterious letter sitting outside the window. The tapping came again, but a little more urgent. _Someone must really want me to collapse into a heap of pain again. _Harry reluctantly sat up and looked at the window. When he saw what it was, he got up and threw open the window. 

"Hedwig!" The snowy white owl glided in and perched on Harry's headboard. She puffed herself up to appear regal and triumphant after going through such an ordeal. Harry walked over and started to stroke her feathers. "Sure is nice to see you again. You must have been pretty sick to be out of commission for a week." Hedwig hooted and nipped his finger affectionately. 

A gust of wind whipped through the room from the open window. Harry turned around to close it when he saw it: another letter. His heart dropped and fear once again filled every part of his body. He didn't want to open it, but he knew he had to. The constant threat of Voldemort was his cross to bear and ignoring it wasn't going to work. Shaking, he picked up the letter and opened it. 

_I'm starting to enjoy our little talks Harry. I figured you would like to talk to someone after another fine day of hard labor for the muggles. After such a long break from the work, though, I'm sure you were up to it. Your little reclusive bout made you more interesting to observe. What makes the great Harry Potter tick? What is going on inside that scarred head of his? Everyone is pondering this Harry. They are not entirely convinced that you are what you seem or claim to be. I just wanted you to know this, so I sent you a nice little article. Enjoy._

V.

When Harry finished the letter, he noticed an article from the Daily Prophet attached at the bottom. He pulled it off and started to read. However, he didn't get very far. White, hot pain erupted from his scar and spread throughout his body. At the same time, the letter was engulfed in the same sickly, green flame as before. Once the pain subsided, Harry saw that the letter was gone, but the article was still in his hands. Shaking, he managed to get to his bed and sit down. Once his eyes were able to focus and the throbbing subsided, he began to read the article. 

****

One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest

by Anita S.

For the Boy-Who-Lived, all of the tragedies he has experienced have started to take their toll. This past year was the needle that broke the hippogriff's back, however. After "mysteriously" becoming one of the champions in the Hogwarts Triwizard Tournament, a wave of paranoia swept over our dear Harry Potter. Our inside source says that he was convinced that someone was out to get him, and that he had nothing to do with becoming a champion. Potter also was observed having a seizure one day in class, and it was revealed that this was not the first time. Unfortunately, everything came to a head after the third task. Another champion, Cedric Diggory, died under suspicious circumstances, and Potter claims that it was the doing of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There were no witnesses to support this claim. We here at the Daily Prophet decided to ask a specialist what all of these strange occurrences could mean. Dr. Holden Goody, head of the psychological stability ward at St. Mungos, explains his theory.

"Most people would look at Mr. Potter's case and think that it was all just for attention. Unfortunately, I think the problem goes deeper. I believe that Mr. Potter is suffering from extreme paranoia, and this is making him a danger to everyone around him. He is running around spreading stories of You-Know-Who's return, and there has been no clarity as far as the Diggory boy's death. I am afraid that Mr. Potter's paranoia isn't going to get better unless he gets the help he so desperately needs."

Dr. Goody went on to say that Potter's world is based on an invisible threat that he has perceived all his life, and that it also might be linked to survivor's guilt. Goody said that Potter's invisible threat could possibly be a way for him to connect to the threat that You-Know-Who posed to his parents. 

All things considered, some are calling for the boy to be interviewed and examined to see if any of these theories hold water. Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has not decided yet what will be done.

"I realize that the boy has displayed questionable traits such as Parseltongue and has made all sorts of wild accusations, and I am considering the best course of action," Mr. Fudge replied in a quick interview. 

Whatever he decides, the entire wizarding world will be waiting to see what will happen to dear Harry Potter. 

"Oh well! Isn't this just grand! Now I am The-Unbalanced-Schizo-Who-Lived. For once things definitely can't get worse," Harry complained out loud. He crumpled up the article and threw it across the room. _It was bad enough having an evil Dark Lord sending you mysterious letters and trying to kill you since one year of age; now the whole world thinks you are paranoid and crazy! _thought Harry. A whole new wave of nausea swept over him, and Harry laid down on his bed. Hedwig sat down next to his head and gave Harry a curious look.

"You don't think I am crazy, do you?" he asked the snowy owl.

Hedwig hooted kindly and nipped his ear. 


	4. Of Dreams, Drugs, and Gravity

Chapter 4 ****

Disclaimer: I may dream about owning the rights to Harry and company, but I don't. Rowling does. Please don't hurt me.

****

Author's Note: It has been a long time since I have posted, but it has been due to many factors (FFN being constantly down, my two jobs, starting fall semester and moving, just to name a few.) I hope that I haven't been forgotten during this absence. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter; I got a little ellipse happy, and I was having fun causing more trouble for Vernon. Hee hee. Stick with me; posting is going to be difficult with my workload, but you'll be pleasantly surprised when I do. Trust me J 

The next two weeks were simply nerve racking for Harry. Granted, the food became edible once Aunt Petunia was back, but it is hard to enjoy a meal when one is constantly looking over his or her shoulder. Harry would jump whenever there was a knock at the door, and he would make sure the coast was clear before he took out the trash. The Dursleys began to notice Harry's odd behavior. Vernon would yell at him and tell him to stop being so strange. Aunt Petunia would hold her nose higher and give him such a disapproving glare that even Snape would be frightened. Dudley, however, thought it was great fun that Harry was so jumpy. He would sneak up behind Harry and try to frighten him. It worked the first time Dudley tried it, but after that, Harry would just turn around and tell him to sod off. 

Harry hadn't received any more letters during this time. However, unlike before, he did not fall back into the sense of false security. "Constant vigilance" became Harry's life day in and day out. Harry was determined that if something was going to happen to him this time, he was going to see it coming. 

On the other hand, there was the matter concerning the Daily Prophet article. _Everyone is having doubts about my sanity, and Fudge is deciding what to do about me like I am some sort of pressing issue,_ thought Harry. How does one prove that they are sane and telling the truth? Harry couldn't completely understand why everyone was so hell-bent on denying the resurrection of Voldemort. Granted, all of the evidence was circumstantial and hearsay and many people didn't relish the idea living in constant fear again. But why would he, Harry Potter of all people, go around saying Voldemort was alive? All he wanted to do was have a peaceful, average life as a wizard. Going around saying Voldemort was alive was definitely contrary to that notion. 

It was a week before school began, and thoughts such as these constantly ran through Harry's mind. He could hardly concentrate in his summer work; his Potions essay read like a first year's. Harry wasn't too concerned though; he had more pressing issues to worry about. Besides, no matter what kind of essay he turned in, Snape would give him a low mark anyway. 

Another late night of figurative tail chasing. Another night of retracing footsteps and getting nowhere. It was infuriating and left Harry feeling hopeless. He stared up at the moon as though it held the answers. Even though it didn't have a clue to offer, something else in the sky caught Harry's eye. Despite it's small size, Harry knew exactly what it was: Pig! Ron must have written him! This was exactly what Harry needed. Someone who was sticking by him and didn't think he was mad. Or at least he hoped….

After finally subduing Pig, Harry began to read his best friend's letter.

__

Harry!

I don't know if you know, but a sizeable amount of the wizarding community thinks you're nutters. Rumors range from you just causing trouble for attention to you being the next dark lord! It is insane what they are saying about you (no pun intended). How are you going to get out of this one? 

Well, I was mainly writing you to see if you want to go to Diagon Alley with us this Saturday. Hermione is going to meet us there. Mom said that if you didn't want to go, then she would get your supplies for you. But I think you should come. You need a break from the muggles. Besides I hear that there's a new broom that has just been released and they have it at Quality Quidditch. You have to come and check it out. Don't make Fred, George and me come and kidnap you! We'll be there to pick you up around 10 o'clock. Be ready!

Ron

Temporary freedom! The thought of being gone, even if it was just for a day, filled Harry from head to toe with relief and joy. He would get to see his friends and forget for a bit that there was an entity of evil that was bound and determined to see his demise. Harry immediately sat at his desk and wrote to Ron saying that he was game for the trip to Diagon Alley. When he finished, Harry looked around for Pig; apparently Hedwig didn't want the energetic owl in her cage. A sudden movement from within Harry's trunk revealed Pig's location. It seems that Harry had an extra bag of owl treats in there, and Pig thought a snack was in order. 

"What a rude bugger! I would have given you some. Come here," Harry scolded. He tied the letter to the owl's leg and tossed him out the window. Once Pig disappeared into the night sky, Harry took a quick look at his calendar. All of the trouble that he was having made him lose track of what day it was. Apparently at that moment, it was Thursday night. _I just have to make it through tomorrow. I can do that. No problem. _

In an effort to not destroy his good mood, Harry put away his potions essay for the time being. He picked up Winning Quidditch Strategies and began to read. There were some interesting plays in it, many of which were extremely difficult and players would have to be crazy to execute. Nevertheless, it was Quidditch and Harry loved Quidditch. He didn't get too far in the book though; sleep overtook Harry in a matter of minutes. 

*****

_The tree was standing alone on the hill. Everything, including the tree, had the look of an old black and white movie. Everything, that is, except for Harry. He was the only thing in color. Harry's attention turned back to the tree. It was the only thing Harry could see for miles. Seeing as how there was nothing else to do, he walked towards the tree. It was tall and would have been taller had it not been slightly bent two-thirds of the way up. The tree had long, drooping branches thick with leaves. The combination of leaves and the black and white color scheme made the tree seem as though it had silver flowing down it. As Harry got closer, he could tell the tree was rather old. It had the look of a creature that had seen better days. However, he could sense something radiating from the tree. Was it power? No way; how could a tree, let alone any plant, possess such power? It was strong, yet it didn't look at all like it had any sort of strength whatsoever. Curious, thought Harry. _

As Harry stood on the hill, pondering about the mysterious tree, he heard a noise. It was a strange buzzing noise and it was getting closer by the second. Harry looked around and saw…..

*****

Darkness.

No wait….. it was a book on his face. Harry reached up and took the book off his face. Normally sunlight would have been streaming into his room, but it was raining. Yes, it was a gloriously dreary Friday morning. As Harry sat up he thought to himself, _Why was I dreaming about a tree?! Is that all my subconscious could come up with? _He thought about whether there might had been a hidden meaning, but Harry couldn't see any.

He stretched and yawned as he got ready and went downstairs. He was feeling pretty good until he became aware of a problem: he had to ask Uncle Vernon if he could go to Diagon Alley tomorrow with Ron. He shrugged and proceeded to go into the kitchen. In the past few years, Harry had learned a thing or two about "convincing" Uncle Vernon. If he just used the right words when he told Vernon, then getting to Diagon Alley wouldn't be a problem. Harry sat down at the breakfast table and grabbed a piece of toast. 

"Uncle Vernon, I was wondering….."

*****

It was about 7 p.m. Friday night, and Harry was laying on his bed nursing two new injuries: a broken arm and a concussion. It wasn't the Dursleys' fault, at least not directly. Harry had asked if he could got to Diagon Alley, and Vernon told him he could if he got an impossible amount of chores done. Apparently, the muggle uncle figured if he could at least make Harry miserable for a day, then a day away from Privet Drive would balance out. Harry figured that he could get the chores done and agreed to Vernon's terms. The trouble started when Harry had to clean out the gutters. He got up on the roof, and right when he got a rhythm going…..

Harry didn't know what had happened next. He had no recollection of what happened right before the fall or even hitting the ground. When he woke up though, he was in the hospital. The nurse was rather nice and helped fill in the holes. One of the neighbors had seen Harry fall as she walked by. She called an ambulance and told the Dursleys immediately. Needless, to say they were less than thrilled that Harry had inconvenienced their day. When they got to the hospital, Uncle Vernon let Harry know how he felt about the situation. Harry told him it wasn't his fault and didn't have a clue as to what had happened. This failed to calm Vernon down, so in the end, the doctor gave him a pill that did the trick. Even as Harry lay in his bed, Vernon was still enjoying the effects. 

Even though Harry wasn't in the best shape, he was still bound and determined to go to Diagon Alley. All he had to do was stay up all night (thanks to the concussion), and get out of the house without anyone noticing. He didn't know what would happen if Uncle Vernon realized Harry still had every intention of leaving at 10 the following morning. The amount of trouble he had inadvertently caused would be enough for the Dursleys to keep him home. With any luck, Vernon's pill will keep him out enough for Harry to escape. 

Harry sighed. For once he was jealous of Vernon; namely his unbothered "happy" sleep. He had to stay awake, but there wasn't a whole lot to do. Harry could work on some of his summer assignments, but would result in the loss of consciousness. He could play gobstones or chess, but with whom? Hedwig? Highly unlikely. Too bad he had finished reading Winning Quidditch Strategies. But wait. There was always…..

Hogwarts: A History. Harry picked it up and examined the cover. It was actually a nice looking book. Bound in a deep, rich red leather and the title in faded gold leaf lettering, he ran his fingers across the pebbly surface. The school seal was stamped on the front, but it was so worn Harry almost missed it. As he flipped through the yellowing pages aimlessly, a musty odor filled his nose. It was the enchanting smell of an old book that had spent most of its life on a shelf, unused. 

Harry took the book and sat down on his bed. He opened it to the first chapter and began to read. _In the early 11th century, four great wizards and witches came together for a common purpose: to build a school where magical knowledge could be standardized and passed down from generation to generation……"_


	5. Diagon Alley (Finally!)

Chapter 5 ****

Disclaimer: Why don't I own anything cool!

Chapter 5

_…And ever since that unfortunate day in 1699, first years haven't been allowed to have brooms._

It was 6 a.m., and Harry was in the kitchen still reading _Hogwarts: A History._ Being in the kitchen made it easier for him to obtain caffeine; so easy that he had lost count how many cups of tea he had had. It didn't matter though. He could barely sit still, and had been reading while steadily pacing the kitchen. Harry was more than half way through with the book, and he failed to see the usefulness of it. Why in the world did Hermione have to constantly refer to it? 

Harry closed the book and sat down at the table. He needed to give his eyes a break. Slowly his eyelids drooped, and the weight of the world just floated away, away, away…… but not quite. Harry jerked back awake and stood up. Four more hours, that was all he needed to last. _I've gone this far. I can make it the rest of the way. I can…_ Harry fell back in the chair and gently rested his head on the table. 

*****

It wasn't too long till Harry finally lifted his head. The amount of caffeine in his system prevented him from truly going to sleep. He sat up in the chair and groggily looked around the room. The more he tried to focus on something the more he became aware of his headache. He stopped thinking and went upstairs to get ready. Ron was going to be there in no time.

The deafening snores of Dudley reverberated through the hallway as Harry walked to his room. How Uncle Vernon was able to hear Hedwig over that was beyond Harry. Almost mechanically, Harry went in, took a shower, and got dressed. A perfect way to kill time since he was moving so slow. By the time all of this was accomplished, Harry only had another hour to wait. 

As Harry sat on his bed waiting for 10 o'clock, he though for a second. _I still don't know whether or not Vernon and Petunia are going to allow me to still go with Ron. Perhaps I should go outside and wait just incase. _Harry seriously doubted that Ron would come by floo powder, especially after what had happened last year. He also hadn't received any sort of port key. That left only muggle forms of transportation, or so he hoped. Either way, it was probably best that Harry waited outside at least in an effort to avoid everyone. 

Harry stealthily crept downstairs and out the front door. As the front door clicked closed, he breathed a sigh of relief; no one noticed and he was that much closer to getting to Diagon Alley. It was actually a beautiful morning. It wasn't too hot yet, and a gentle breeze was blowing. Harry closed his eyes and smiled; it was probably the best feeling he had in a long time. The calm, quietness of Privet Drive this morning was so comforting and relaxing that Harry thought that for once his life was perfect.

"OW!" Harry yelled. A fire ant bit him on the ankle. "Well…maybe not perfect."

This was soon forgotten, though, because a cab pulled up in the driveway. Before it even stopped, Ron was out of the cab and heading up to the front porch. Hermione stepped out once the vehicle came to a complete stop. Harry stood up and waved at his friends.

"Harry! What in the world happened to you!?" Hermione exclaimed. Harry remembered then that his arm was broken and in a sling. _Man, I almost forgot about that,_ thought Harry. 

"Well, what had happened was….. oh wait. I can't remember what happened. Apparently I fell from the roof when I was cleaning the gutters. For my troubles, I got this lovely broken arm, complete with cast, and a concussion. Yes, it has been a simply wonderful summer," Harry explained, being sure to put enough sarcasm in his last statement. 

"You would die if you had a normal life for any period of time, wouldn't you?" Ron said jokingly. 

"Never a dull moment," Harry sighed. "Anyway, we should be going. The longer we hang around the greater the chance of my family waking up."

"Right then, mate. Let's go!" 

They all climbed back into the cab and began their trip to Diagon Alley. As the cab started down Privet Drive, Harry happened to glance back at number 4. Right as he did, Uncle Vernon stepped out on the front porch, got the newspaper and went back inside. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to his friends. 

*****

The cab ride to the Leaky Cauldron was interesting to say the least. Apparently, Hermione was made a Prefect, and Ron was having a field day over it. Hermione was sore enough as it was; she really didn't need Ron adding to it. Ron couldn't resist, so Harry spent a good bit of the ride keeping the two of them from killing each other. 

Finally, the cab came to a stop in front of the old inn. Harry finally got Ron to stop making fun of Hermione by asking about the new broom model at Quality Quidditch. Hermione and Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Ron started to rattle off a list of improvements and new features to the Firebolt 5.0. 

The trio walked through the door right as Ron was listing the different kinds of handles one could choose from. Harry was mentally preparing himself for the usual onslaught of greetings he usually got when he walked into the Leaky Cauldron. However, that was not the case this time. The noise level dropped to almost nothing when people turned around and saw that he had walked in. The three of them stopped and were caught a bit off guard when they noticed the look on peoples faces. They weren't looks of admiration, or even friendliness, but looks of contempt and apprehension. Then it hit Harry; the article! Everyone must have read it and now thought he was a complete nutter. Slowly, the patrons returned to their conversations, and it was business as usual, just a little more subdued than before they walked in. 

Harry decided not to think about what had just happened. _The only way I can really dispel this misconception is by acting as though nothing happened and all is normal,_ Harry thought. He started to walk towards the back of the inn. As he walked past the bar, he figured he should at least say hello to the owner, Tom. "Hi Tom! How are you?"

Tom gave a weak nod and continued to refill someone's drink. Harry was a bit hurt by this. Tom used to be so polite and kind to him, especially that summer when he ran away from the Dursleys after Sirius had escaped. Now he wouldn't even say hi to Harry. He sadly turned this over in his mind as the three of them finally stepped outside in the back alley. 

"Man, that was something else! I guess people really will believe anything that they read," Ron said once they were out of earshot of everyone. 

"I'm sorry Harry," apologized Hermione. "Who knew that things were going to get this bad? Maybe things will be better inside Diagon Alley."

"Maybe," Harry mumbled. He wasn't convinced that things would be though. He somehow saw them just getting worse. He bent down and tapped the correct brick with his wand. Suddenly they were standing in front of the entrance to Diagon Alley. Witches and wizards, both young and old, were bustling everywhere; such was the typical scene before school began. Harry slowly walked in and looked around, testing the water so to speak. No one seemed to notice him; everyone seemed too preoccupied. Harry couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Ron came up behind him and gave him a shove, which snapped Harry out of his thoughts. 

"Hey, are we going to stand around or what? We have to meet my mum and brothers at Gringotts," he said. 

"Good because I need to exchange my money," Hermione said. 

Harry gave a smile and nodded. They quickly walked to Gringotts where Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, George, and Fred were sitting on the steps waiting. When she saw them approach, Mrs. Weasley jumped up, rushed forward, and gave Harry a huge hug. 

"My lord, how are you Harry? Are you doing ok? My goodness, look at your arm! What happened to you? Come here and sit down! What have those muggles done to you?!" All of this came out so quickly that Harry found himself suddenly sitting on a bench with Mrs. Weasley feeling his forehead. "Oh my! Look at that bump on your head! This is intolerable! Why, I never....."

"Oh mum! Will you knock it off? Harry is just fine. Stop doting on him. One would think he was your son and not us!" Fred said while gently pulling Mrs. Weasley away from Harry.

"Yeah mum. Give him some room to breathe. Sometimes you do more harm than good," George chimed in.

"Will you two stop joking around? Harry looks terrible!" Mrs. Weasley insisted.

"Really, I am fine. It'll heal. I'm okay," Harry tried to reassure Mrs. Weasley.

"You see, he may be a complete loon, but I'm sure he knows when he is hurt!" Fred said with a mischievous smile. 

"Fred!" screamed Mrs. Weasley in shock. Apparently, the article was an off-limits subject.

"You don't believe the article do you?" Hermione asked cautiously. She apparently didn't want to fall out of favor with Mrs. Weasley again. That one cold look from the matriarch was enough for Hermione to realize not to be on her bad side. 

"Of course not! I know that whoever wrote that article just wants to be the next Rita Skeeter. I just worry about Harry and those muggles. They just don't understand," the mother explained. "They just don't know what dangers are out there."

"Harry can take care of himself. He's escaped You-Know-Who so many times before," Ginny quickly glanced in Harry's direction and blushed as she said this.

"I've asked Professor Dumbledore and he says it is better for me to stay with the Dursleys. If he isn't worried, then neither am I," Harry tried to sound convincing as he said this. He then quickly changed the subject. "I really need to get some new robes. Mine are a bit short now."

"I don't see how. You're just as short as ever!" Ron joked. 

"Hey, I prefer the term, 'vertically challenged'."

*****

It wasn't much longer till the group broke up and went separate ways. Fred and George mumbled something about needing supplies and ran off before anyone could ask for what. Harry already knew; it had to be supplies for more Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley went off to get more practical things such as books and other school supplies. As usual, Harry, Hermione, and Ron went off on their own. Mrs. Weasley was a bit reluctant to allow this, but gave in in the end. 

"So what sort of supplies are Fred and George getting? Are they still trying to resurrect Weasleys' Wacky Wizzes, or whatever?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I really don't have a clue. Probably. They have been holed up in their room more than ever since we got home from the last term. They've been so serious that it has been a month since their last prank," Ron explained while shaking his head. "Mom likes to tell herself that they're actually studying, but I can tell that she is a bit worried."

"I'm sure that they're okay. I don't know if those two could be serious anyway." A small, knowing grin spread across Harry's face. 

"Yeah. I'll worry when they start acting like Percy."

"Honestly, if anyone listened to you two, they would think that being studious and trying to succeed academically was something terrible," Hermione scolded them. Ron and Harry looked at each other and shrugged. Fortunately, though, some things don't change. 

****

Author's Note: I figured I would do my note down here 'cause I've got some explainin' to do. Yeah, so, I was having a hard time writing this chapter. It was nuts!!! I spent so many nights just staring at my computer and screaming "WHY?!" Anywho, I came to the conclusion that I should just post what I had and make it up in the next chapter. This was a wonderful idea because by taking the pressure off this chapter, I actually sat down and outlined the next chapter. It was amazing because I actually have the entire next chapter planned, and I came up with a very interesting addition to my plot. I get a grin on my face when I think about it :) Please bear with me. I am sorry if this is slow moving; so is my love life. As usual, read, enjoy, and review. 

Oh yeah. I also reposted my other chapters. A dear friend of mine brought a good bit of my mistakes to my attention a while ago, so now I have actually corrected them. Thanks Rebecca; I promise to actually use spellcheck from now on. Doesn't mean I'll like it though. 


	6. Close Encounters of the Bad Kind

****

Disclaimer: Yada, yada, yada…hey wait! I own Anita. Cool J 

****

A Quick Note: Another testament to my lack of intelligence. In my last chapter I left out the word "not" in a very important place. Hermione was **not** made a Prefect. Sorry for the mistake. And now for something completely different. 

****

Chapter 6

In almost no time at all, the three friends were nearly done with their shopping. Harry got his new robes, Ron some calming potion for Pig, and Hermione everything but the kitchen sink. The afternoon was going by uneventfully. They ran into a few of their classmates. They all looked pretty cheerful, but there also seemed to be a bit of apprehension with discussing the new year. Harry didn't know if they were recalling the past year's events or if they really did think Harry was unbalanced, but there was uneasiness with their run-ins with fellow students. Either way, Harry found it unsettling. 

As they left the Apothecary, Hermione crossed another item off her list. 

"There! Now we just need to go to Flourish and Blotts to get our new textbooks, and then we'll be done. Here Ron, hold this for a second," Hermione handed him her bag of potions ingredients. 

"Sure thing. My arms haven't fallen off yet, but this should do the trick," Ron said facetiously as he grabbed the bag with his last open finger. 

"I knew you wouldn't mind." 

Harry started to laugh at how Ron became a walking mass of boxes and bags. He stopped and pondered. _Why is Ron carrying all of Hermione's things?_ Just as he was about to ask, a familiar yet unwelcomed voice came from behind him. 

"Are you trying to earn extra money by being the mudblood's servant, Weasley?" It was Draco. "I'll give you a knutz if you shine my shoes. Two if you do a good job."

Ron almost dropped the packages he was carrying as he whirled around in anger. "Shut up, ferret boy, or else I will make you wish you were a muggle!" 

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of confusion; they didn't see how this was an effective insult.

"Oh look, you have the world renowned nutter with you as well. How have the voices in your head been, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. 

"Well, I was arguing with them about who had more intelligence, you or a flobberworm. They did cite some interesting evidence for the flobberworm," Harry replied as coolly and seriously as he could. "You see, they said that-"

However, Harry's explanation was cut off by the arrival of another person: Lucius Malfoy. 

"There you are Draco," the older Malfoy was walking towards the younger. He glanced over to see whom his son was talking to and stopped when he saw it was Harry. Lucius gave Harry a look of utter disgust and contempt. "Come on, son. I have a few more errands to run." 

Seeing the older Malfoy again must have struck a nerve in Harry because what came out of his mouth was completely unexpected: "So did your master give you the day off, or are you on official Deatheater business?" 

Silence. That was all. Ron, Hermione, Lucius, Draco, and everyone within earshot stood still, silently staring at Harry. His eyes remained fixed on Lucius and flashed with a strange and frightening intensity. As Harry stood there, he could only think of how close Lucius was to the creature that had taken his family and caused him so much pain. 

Lucius slowly turned around to face the boy. He was trying his best to look nonchalant. However, it wasn't working too well; Harry's outburst had gotten to him. Not only that but a crowd had formed to see what was going on. The man gave a weak smile (if one could call it that) and tried to play it off. 

"I'm sorry, but did you say something?" he asked cautiously, daring Harry to say it again. 

"You heard me and so did everyone else," Harry's eyes didn't leave the tall, gaunt man for a second. 

Lucius walked to Harry and bent down so that they were face to face. In a low voice so that only Harry could hear, he said, "I wouldn't have done that, Potter. You would be so lucky to die as your parents did, but wait and see what we have in store for you." He then stood up and walked away briskly with Draco in tow. 

Murmuring and getting one last good look at the scene, the crowd dispersed. Harry was still staring at place where the two Malfoys faded into the crowd. As the reality of what just transpired settled in, Harry's knees gave out and he sank to the ground. Ron and Hermione quickly ran to him. 

"Harry, what in the world did you think you were doing, approaching Malfoy like that?! Honestly, it looked as though you were possessed," Hermione chided as she and Ron each grabbed an arm and helped Harry to the nearest bench. 

"Yeah, what was that? I mean, it was great seeing you call him out in public, but it was still a stupid thing to do," Ron said as he set down their packages. 

Harry buried his face in his hands and tried to steady himself. "I don't have a clue what just happened. All I know is that when that slimy Malfoy walked up, I just felt so angry. I remembered how no one believes me about what happened, the role he played in bringing Voldemort back, and he is an 'upstanding citizen,'" Harry looked up at his two friends, who looked back with looks of concern. "I didn't feel like myself just then. Something, the anger perhaps, took control of me. If he stuck around any longer, I… I don't know." 

"Look, it is a terrible situation, but things will change. Trust me. Dumbledore, my dad, Sirius, and everyone else are all working hard to find a solution to this mess. And if push comes to shove, we'll show You-Know-Who a thing or two!" Ron said as he tried to strike a heroic stance.

"You were doing fine until you said that last thing," Hermione said, shaking her head. Ron sadly dropped his pose. He didn't appreciate Hermione stealing his thunder. 

"Let's finish getting our supplies. I'm feeling a bit worn out and my head kind of hurts," Harry said. Rubbing his forehead, he got to his feet and started walking in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, shrugged, and followed Harry. 

They walked into Flourish and Blotts and proceeded to gather all of their books. As Harry and Ron were trying to find their divination books, Harry noticed someone standing at the other end of the isle. She looked odd, but at the same time familiar with her sharp features and curly blond hair. The woman was also wearing vivid teal robes and rectangular fuchsia glasses. Harry wouldn't have taken notice of her except that she was intently staring at him and Ron. 

He turned to Ron and said, "I think the books are this way."

"The clerk said they would be h-," but Ron was cut off as Harry grabbed his collar and dragged him down a few isles. When Harry felt that they were far enough away, he let go of Ron and looked cautiously around. 

"Merlin's beard, what is up with you?! Why'd you do that?" Ron complained while straightening his shirt. 

"Someone was watching us. She looked familiar and not in a good way," he explained in a whisper. They both moved to the end of the isle and looked. No one there. They turned back around and let out a startled yell. The woman had sneaked up behind them.

Very quickly, she blurted out, "Hi. How are you? I'm doing fine thanks. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions. Thanks! First, I wanted to ask you why-."

"Hey wait a minute!" Harry yelled. "Who are you and why do you want to ask me a few questions?" 

"Oh, did I not introduce myself? How silly of me. I'm Anita Skeeter, special correspondent for the Daily Prophet. I was hoping to interview you for an article I am writing. So, about those questions, why did you-,"

"NO! No questions! I know you, or at least your sister. She did a fine job of interviewing me last year, and if I am not mistaken, not to long ago you wrote an article about me. You said I was mad!" Harry said angrily. 

"What's going on here?" Hermione asked. She caught sight of Anita. "Who are you? You look familiar…"

"This is Anita Skeeter, sister to the ever wonderful Rita," Ron said as he rolled his eyes. 

"Rita's sister? Really? How is your sister? I haven't seen an article by her in a long time. Is she on holiday or something?" Hermione asked innocently. Harry and Ron stifled their laughter as they recalled how Hermione made Rita promise not to write for a year. 

Anita's fake smile faded a bit. "Yes, well, she felt as though a lot of stress was put on her during her coverage of the Triwizard. When she got back, she decided to travel, and I took her place."

"Well, what a shame. Such a loss to the journalism community. Are you two about done?" Hermione asked the two boys. 

"I'll go grab the divination books and then we can go," Ron said and walked off to get the books. "I'll meet you two up front."

"Come on, let's go pay," Hermione said, gently pulling on Harry's sleeve. 

"Fine. I don't feel like a one-on-one right now," he said. They walked off towards the front counter. However, Anita wasn't about to give up. 

"I can understand why you would be hesitant to talk to me. You've been given a bad rap by other writers-."

"By **your** sister and **you**," Harry said pointedly. He put his books up on the counter right as Ron walked up. 

"Point taken, but I want to change that. I know you're not mad and I want tell everyone that. However, I need you to answer some questions to help me do so."

"Hmmm… let me think," said Harry thoughtfully. He gave the clerk his money and gathered his books. He turned to Anita. "I've thought about it: no." Harry walked out of the store where Ron and Hermione were waiting. They all gave a short, condescending wave to Anita through the window and walked off. 

"I thought that it was bad enough having a person like Rita in the world," Hermione said. "Just our luck she has a sister."

"All you have to do is wait for her to turn into her animagus form and then you can put her in a jar," Ron suggested.

"Yeah, you can have a whole collection of animagus reporters," Harry added.

"Seriously, you two. It was bad enough with Rita around. Now we have her sister to contend with. Rita probably told her all about what I did to her, and now we might have a sister who is out to settle a score." Hermione said with all the seriousness she could muster. 

"Well, I don't think that much is going to stop her," Ron said while staring ahead.

"Why?" Hermione asked. 

"Because she is standing right where we are supposed to meet my mum," Ron replied. Sure enough, right by the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was Anita in all of her gaudy glory. 

"She's worse than a garden gnome!" Harry said with exasperation.

Anita started towards the three and opened her mouth to ask them a question. Thankfully that was all she had a chance to do. Fred and George stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

"Get out of the way you bloody twits," she hissed.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to make an appointment," Fred declared importantly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter is a very important man and we can't have nosy reporters bugging him all the time," George added. 

"Well I never-," huffed Anita. 

"That's right, you won't unless you make an appointment," George said definitively.

"Here's our card. Don't call us we'll call you," Fred handed her a bit of parchment that resembled a business card. The two then walked over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron so that they could all go inside the Leaky Cauldron, but were stopped abruptly as they heard the reporter yell.

"This is a coupon for a free chocolate frog! Get back here! I want my interview!"

Before anyone could respond, fate intervened in the form of Mrs. Weasley with Ginny right behind. 

"I'm sorry but were my boys bothering you?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I was trying to conduct an interview, and your little gits are getting in the way!" the furious Anita responded.

"She shouldn't have said that," Ron said in a low voice. Ginny saw what was coming as well, and walked briskly to join the others. Fred and George just stood there grinning from ear to ear; their mum yelling at someone else was always a good show. It was just bad for the person receiving.

"Little gits, eh? And just who are you trying to interview?" Mrs. Weasley had a dangerous glint in her eye and tone in her voice. 

"I was just trying to ask Harry about a few things, and who are **you** to be asking me questions?" Anita glared.

"Harry is under my responsibility at the moment, and will not have you or anyone else hassling him. That poor boy has been through so much, and I am not about to see him go through the wringer again. How dare you! Do you not have any decency? Have you no respect for other peoples' lives? With your type, it's always 'If it bleeds, it leads.' Well, let's see if you like it if you are the one bleeding… no wait. That would make me as bad as you. Leave us alone!" Mrs. Weasley started to walk off, but then turned back around. "Oh and how dare you insult my children! I am downright proud of them for trying to stop you, you silly troll!"

Anita was rooted where she stood and could only stare at the other woman with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. After a few seconds, the shock faded a bit and Anita responded. "Fine then, I won't ask Harry any questions. Frankly I have enough information to write my article. Have a nice day," She turned on her heel and stormed off. 

Mrs. Weasley gave one last indignant look in her direction and walked over to where Harry and the others were standing. 

"Right-o mum!" Fred cheered.

"That's the way to handle the press!" George said as he put his arm around her shoulders. 

"Um… thanks Mrs. Weasley," Harry said weakly. He was kind of afraid of the mother now. 

"Oh, it's alright," she said with a genuine smile. "These reporters simply have no manners, and no ethics to boot. Who was she anyway?"

"Anita Skeeter, sister of the ever popular Rita," Hermione answered.

"Well, no wonder! Just like her sister. What happened to Rita anyway? Why is her sister doing her work?" 

"Vacation I think," Hermione said innocently.

"It's getting late," Mrs. Weasley announced. "It's time that we all went home. Are you going to be okay in the cab by yourself, Harry?

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied. "Thanks for having me around and getting rid of Anita."

"No problem at all. Now let's get a move on."

*****

The cab ride home was going along uneventfully. Hermione accompanied Harry since Mrs. Weasley didn't want him to go it alone. He and Hermione were talking about their summer vacations and what new things they would learn this year. Harry thought that what they learned didn't matter as long as it was completely boring. He certainly could use a dull moment. The conversation gave way to silence; both were trying to think of pleasant topics. They rode along in the silence for a few moments until Harry remembered something that he wanted to ask Hermione and Ron earlier. 

"Hey Hermione. I was wondering what's the-."

But Harry didn't get to finish his question. The driver had slammed on the brakes and Harry was pitched forward, hitting his head on the front seat. Hermione was pitched forward but stopped by her seat belt; Harry's must have been broken. 

"Sorry 'bout that. Cat in the road," the cabbie half-hearted apologized.

"Yeah, okay," Harry said. Pain was pulsating though his head thanks to the impact. He winced as he touched the bump on his head, as if he needed reassurance that it was still there. The resurgence of pain should have been evidence enough. The cab started forward again, and Harry leaned back in his seat.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione's face was of pure concern. 

"I'm fine. It's just a headache," he mumbled. 

"I meant with everything that was going on. I know that I don't know everything that is going on, but this isn't the time for you to hold things back or hide them. We want to help you and-."

"I know, I know. You're my friends and you'll always be there. Well, I am sorry. There isn't much you can do to help," he didn't know why he snapped at Hermione like this. He did regret it when he saw the wounded look on Hermione's face. It was just that the sum of the horrible events in Diagon Alley and no sleep left Harry on edge. Even though she meant well, Hermione's concern seemed patronizing and naïve to him. Before he could say anything, the cab pulled up in the Dursleys' driveway. Harry paid his portion and gathered his purchases. 

"I'll see you on the train," He said without much emotion and walked quickly inside the house. He closed the door and didn't move till he heard the cab drive off. Slowly, he walked up the stairs to his room and put his new things away. _I should've said I was sorry_, he thought, _I'll send her a letter and explain._

Once his new robes were neatly packed in his trunk, Harry went back downstairs to get something to eat. As he walked pass Dudley's room, he heard the familiar noises of exploding aliens and foreign worlds being conquered, digitally speaking. _Maybe they didn't notice that I was gone._ It was the least he could hope for. 

As Harry was making a sandwich, he heard someone coming down the stairs. Unfortunately due to Dudley's recent weight gain (the diet didn't quite work), he couldn't tell whether the person was Vernon or Dudley. It was hard to distinguish one fat footfall from another. Harry finished making his sandwich right as Dudley peered into the kitchen.

"Where were you all day?" he asked.

"Out," Harry replied nonchalantly as he took bite of his sandwich. After that first bite, he realized just how incredibly hungry he had been. 

Dudley's eyes narrowed at Harry as he stepped into the kitchen. "You were out with your weird friends weren't you? Did dad say you could go?"

"Couldn't ask. He was still passed out, and I didn't care," Harry's patience for the blob was wearing thin. He just wanted to eat his sandwich and go to sleep. 

"You'll care when he and mum get home," Dudley jeered. 

"And you'll care when my godfather comes for a visit," Harry said as he walked past his cousin and up to his room. _That'll shut him up_.

Harry closed the door and sat down at his desk. He picked up a quill and grabbed some parchment so that he could begin to write an apology to Hermione. For a moment, he considered telling her about the mysterious letters, but decided against it. If Dumbledore knew and couldn't advise much, what could Hermione and Ron do? Worry more? That certainly wouldn't help the situation. 

It was getting late and exhaustion had begun to sink in. Seeing as how Hedwig wasn't even around, Harry figured he would write the apology tomorrow. He moved from desk to bed with a quick stumble and lay there. It had been almost two full days since he had slept, and he could move no more. Harry did manage to take his glasses off before he drifted off. It felt good to finally rest. 

*****

Tap tap tap… tap tap tap.

Harry sleepily opened his eyes. He had only been asleep for a couple of hours. He rolled over towards the sound of the tapping. It was coming from the window. When this sunk in, Harry sat up, wide-awake. _That had better not be what I think it is._

Cautiously, he got up and approached the window. Nothing was out there, except a letter with the plain wax seal and no writing on the front. Even though a fierce wind was blowing, the letter didn't move at all. It was as though there was an invisible paperweight on it. 

Harry opened the window and picked up the letter. His heart was racing and sweat poured down his face as he turned it over. Just as he started to open it, he stopped. _What if I don't open it? Worth a try I suppose._ He gripped the sides and ripped the letter in half. A few wisps of smoke trickled out of the halves and fell out of his hands as it disintegrated into a fine powder. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned to go back to bed. 

Tap tap tap.

Harry whirled around. His heart sank as he saw another letter sitting on the sill. _Not good_, he thought as he picked up the new letter. _How could he do that? How did he know that I ripped up the first one? He couldn't be here…could he?_ Harry desperately looked out the window; he couldn't see anyone in the street, the yard, or the neighbor's yards. He even turned himself around to try and see if anyone was on the roof. He couldn't see anyone or anything. 

Harry pulled himself back inside. He returned his attention to the letter in his hand. _I really don't want to, but I somehow feel that I have to._ He pulled up the seal and flicked the parchment open. 

__

Good to see you out and about. My, you really did get under Lucius' skin. Your cutting remark and defiant attitude reminded me of someone. And how about that Anita? I'm sure you wouldn't mind cursing that nosy reporter into oblivion. Good thing for her your friends intervened.

But I am sure these incidents are far from your mind, especially after the spat with your female companion. Why didn't you tell her about our little talks? I'm sure that you didn't want her to worry more. Too bad Dumbledore doesn't have clue about what to do about this situation. Perhaps he and I should have a one-on-one about it.

I suppose I will let you sleep now. Merlin knows you need it. Until next time, adieu.

V.

As soon as Harry finished reading, the letter flew out his hand and burst into the usual sickly green flames. Harry's head filled with intense blinding pain and his scar burn worse than ever. Everything seemed to be worse than ever, as though he was being punished for ripping up the first letter. He fell to the floor and writhed in pain for what seemed like hours. All Harry could think was, _Why?_

****

Author's Note: Hurray! The fall semester is over. I did relatively well and now anxiously await a much more relaxed spring semester. Hopefully with fewer classes, I might have time to post more than twice. As a sort of apology for the lack of postings, I made this chapter basically twice as long. Merry Christmas! I hope everyone likes it. I thank those of y'all who still check up on me. It means a lot to me. Really, it doesJ Don't forget to review! Oh and tell your friends! Happy Holidays! Now it is time for me to sleep. 


	7. Journey to Hogwarts (with a Surprise)

**Disclaimer: **Why is it whenever there is UFO or alien sighting, there is always a nearby military base? You know, because they... oh yeah. Disclaimer. I don't own anything from the Harry Potter universe. It all belongs to JKR, Warner Bros., and a couple of publishing companies. I only have Anita Skeeter. 

Chapter 7

            Harry woke up the next morning on the floor where he had passed out. He made a move to get up, but was stopped short by the extreme soreness that filled every muscle, bone, and joint in his body. Slowly, he rolled over to the chair by his desk and used it to support himself as he got up. As soon as Harry was standing, he looked around the room. Everything seemed normal; nothing looked as though it was an instrument of Voldemort. Nothing was out of place and there were no foreign objects. _How could he know that I ripped up the first letter? There was no one outside, no way he could have been here, or anyone else for that matter. How? _The question weighed heavily on Harry's mind and a headache just made it throb. Somehow he managed to get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast. 

            Harry didn't expect what was about to happen. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all at the table eating breakfast as usual, but there was something different. Uncle Vernon had a grin that no one would have been able to smack off. Aunt Petunia was simply glowing as she primly sipped her tea. Dudley looked as though he was plotting something. Harry was almost afraid to sit down. Something was going on and he knew it wasn't good. 

            Cautiously, he asked, "Is something up?" 

            Uncle Vernon turned and looked at him, not with the usual contempt. This was far more sinister: joy. "Nothing is wrong, you," he said smiling. "In fact, things couldn't be better. Your wonderful aunt is pregnant."

            Petunia put down her teacup. "If you even cared to ask, we were at the doctor's yesterday. Soon my precious Duddykins will have a younger sibling. And he'll take good care of his little brother or sister, won't he?" 

            "Of course I will, mummy," Dudley's saccharine sweetness made Harry queasy. Dudley looked at Harry and a smile crept up on the corners of his mouth. "Mum, where is the baby going to sleep?"

            "Oh that's right," she looked at Harry with the expected distaste. He didn't like where this is going. 

            "Well, the baby will get Harry's room, of course," Vernon announced.

            "Wait, where am I going to sleep?" Harry asked.

            "There is plenty of room in the attic. You have to move all of you stuff and your bed up there before you go back to... THAT place."

            The conversation was apparently over because everyone went back to what they were doing before Harry came in. He quickly ate some toast and went back upstairs. He went into his room and started looking around again, but with different thoughts going through his head. _I get out of the cupboard finally, and now I am back just at a different altitude. At least it will be for only two months each year. Hmmm... maybe this Dursley will like me..._

_Nah._

*****

            Finally, it was September 1st. Harry managed to get a ride to King's Cross since the Dursleys were going shopping. Petunia wanted to look at baby items and buy something for Dudley, so he wouldn't get jealous. 

Harry didn't care how he got there, just as long as he did. He had spent the rest of his break moving his things and furniture up to the attic, and cleaning his old room in preparation. Aunt Petunia seemed to think that maybe magic was contagious, so she wanted every square inch of the room cleaned and sanitized. That was a day's work in itself for Harry. She made him wear gloves, a hair net, and a dust mask so that nothing of him would come in contact with the room. Harry was just glad she didn't make him wear a level four biocontainment suit. 

With all this behind him, Harry gleefully bid farewell to the Dursleys when they got to the station. For the time being, he didn't want to think about the new addition on the way. He rolled his belongings through the station to the barrier for 9 ¾. Nonchalantly, he walked through the brick wall and popped out at the platform for the Hogwarts Express. 

There were a few students and parents milling about seeing as how the train wasn't to leave for a bit. Harry decided to sit down on a bench and wait for his friends to show up. As he sat there, more students and families trickled in onto the platform. Harry sat there and watched as mothers and fathers hugged their children and made them promise to be good or make good grades. He watched as one set of parents tried to make a younger sister hug her older brother before he got on the train. It ended with the younger sister running behind the parents and refusing to acknowledge her brother's departure. Harry couldn't help but wonder whether she was just putting up a show because she would miss him, or whether he was being rude to her earlier. Either way, he decided to get up and claim a compartment. 

            As per usual, Harry claimed one of the compartments closer to the back of the train. Privation was always in short supply when important secret matters needed to be discuss. Harry was hoping to preserve some of it since there was much to tell him friends. Of course, he had to apologize to Hermione, but he also wanted to tell them about the mysterious letters. At least then they would be prepared if the ocurrances continued at Hogwarts. Harry hoped that they wouldn't.

            Right as he finished stowing away his trunk, someone came into the compartment. It was Ron.

            "There you are! Mum almost thought that you hadn't made it. Come on and show her that you really are here," Ron lead Harry back off the train to where the Weasley clan was saying their good-byes. Mrs. Weasley was going over her list of "don'ts" for the twins, and Mr. Weasley and Ginny were sharing one of those father-daughter type hugs. 

            "… and please, PLEASE, don't do anything else that might jeopardize your graduating. You cannot get through life with just silly pranks," Mrs. Weasley finally breathed after the last of her warnings. Her features softened a bit as the rant ended. "Make me proud you two."

            "Aww mum, now don't go getting all sappy on us," Fred told her.

            " Yeah, we'll graduate. You know that we never would go that far. We'll stop right before we get to that point," George added. They both hugged Mrs. Weasley and turned to get on the train. 

            "Hey, it's Harry," Fred said with a grin. "There you go, mum. Another person for you to fret over."

            "There you are, Harry," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "We were so worried about you!"

            "We, you, what's the difference?" George said under his breath. 

            "I just wanted to make sure that you got here okay."

            "I'm fine. My uncle dropped me off a bit earlier. He, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had business to take care of here in London today," Harry explained. Mrs. Weasley raised her right eyebrow when Harry said business, but she didn't ask. 

            "Well, you're here and that's what matters. Have a great year, and be careful," she hugged Harry tightly. He hugged he back to reassure her that he would. 

            Once good-byes were said and done, everyone went to their proper places. When Harry and Ron got back to the compartment, Hermione was already in there sitting quietly with Crookshanks in her lap. She looked up at the boys when they came and gave a weak hello. 

            "When did you get here? Didn't you see us out on the platform?" Ron asked. 

            "I didn't want to be rude and interrupt," Hermione replied and turned to look out the window. Anyone could tell that this was simply a pathetic excuse. 

            Before Ron could counter this, Harry quickly spoke up. "Look Hermione, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. I was just being a self-centered stupid git. Not that that's a good excuse, but… well, I'm sorry."

             Hermione didn't move. Harry couldn't tell if he upset her more or what. She turned back around and faced them with the most neutral of all expressions. For a moment or two, she just looked them. Finally Hermione smiled and said, "Apology accepted."

            Harry smiled to himself; that went a lot better than he thought would. Hermione had changed a lot since they all first met. She wasn't nearly as overly sensitive about some things, and overall, it seemed as though her whole personality had softened some. Harry even noticed that she was, at that moment, wearing make-up. _That's odd. Is she trying to impress someone or something?_

            Seeing that whatever had occurred was just resolved, Ron took the seat right next to Hermione and Harry right across from them. They rode in silence for a while as Harry tried to find the right way to tell his friends about the letters. After a bit, he figured there was no good way to break this news to them. _Now or never…_

            "So, I've been receiving mysterious letters from Voldemort that have detailed descriptions of what I've been doing all summer as though he has been watching me," Harry blurted out as untactful as possible. 

            Harry would have thought their looks were priceless if the subject matter didn't have such dangerous implications. Ron had a look of disbelief with his mouth wide open and eyes bigger than hubcaps; Hermione had more of a subtle dear-caught-in-headlights look. 

Silence… and then more silence.

Hermione's catatonic state was the first to wear off. "How did… I mean, when did you… why…" she was having trouble deciding what questions to ask after such an outburst. 

"Huh?" Ron was back to normal as well.

"Wait wait wait. Start from the beginning and no paraphrasing," Hermione finally said. 

Harry took a deep breath and began. He started with the day after his birthday when he got the first letter. Continuing in excruciating detail, he told them about the following correspondence. The whole time Hermione and Ron patiently listened and soaked in every tidbit. Harry had to stop every so often when other students popped in to say hi. Seamus and Dean stopped by to see if Harry had seen the new broom model at Quality Quidditch. The two seemed disappointed when he told them no; they probably had hoped that he had bought it to give the Gryffindor team more of an edge. Before they could ask any more questions, there was a small explosion from somewhere else on the train. Dean and Seamus left to investigate, and Harry finished his story after what seemed like an eternity. 

"Oh, and my aunt is pregnant, so I will now live in the attic when I'm back home in the summer," he added. 

"Have you told anyone else about all this?" Hermione asked.

"Well, Uncle Vernon just announced it a few days ago, so I haven't had a chance to tell anyone really," Harry answered.

"Not the baby, the letters!" Hermione said exasperated. 

Herm

"I did tell Dumbledore the first time it happened, but I haven't told him about the rest or even my arm."

"How in the world is You-Know-Who able to do this? I thought Dumbledore had a ton of protections around your aunt and uncle's house," Ron said. 

"I don't know. Whenever it happens, I look around the neighborhood but I never see anyone or anything out of the ordinary."

"Well, as soon as we get to Hogwarts, you need to go the Headmaster and tell him everything," Hermione ordered. 

"Yeah, I will," Harry agreed. 

Some students ran down the hall of the car. Judging from their yelling, something interesting must have been happening at the other end. Harry thought that it probably had something to do with Fred and George. Ron pulled him away from his thoughts with a question. 

"So… your aunt's going to have a baby. How'd that happen?"

*****

            The darkening sky and slowing of the train signaled that they had arrived at Hogsmeade Station. A myriad of students in black robes spilled out from the train and split into two groups, first years and the rest. A familiar voice boomed from the end of the platform where the first years were gathering.

            "'Firs' years, over 'ere. C'mon now," Hagrid was herding all the new students to where he was. Harry stopped and waved frantically so that Hagrid would see him through the crowd. It took a bit, but the giant saw him and waved back. Satisfied, Harry caught up with his friends and got in one of the enchanted carriages that would take them up to the castle. Since there were four to a carriage, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ron's sister Ginny shared one. On the way to the castle, Ginny was telling them all the rumors she had heard about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. 

            "I heard some Ravenclaws saying that Snape finally got the job," Ginny told them. "But I somehow doubt that. Anyway, one of my friends told me that Dumbledore was going to teach it himself. That wouldn't be too bad. I'm sure he would be an excellent teacher. Fred and George tried to convince me that since we had a werewolf once, that we would now have a vampire."

            "I seriously doubt that. In fact, I doubt any of those," Hermione said. "I am sure Dumbledore and Snape are too busy with Voldemort affairs, and a vampire teacher is perhaps the silliest thing I've ever heard of."

            "Too bad we can't have Lupin again," Ron sighed. 

            "Yeah, that would be great," Harry added. "At least with him, we learned something."

            The carriage came to a stop at the front steps of Hogwarts. Everyone got out of their carriages and made their way up the front steps and into the entrance hall. Candles were lit, illuminating the way to the Great Hall where the start-of-term feast was always held. All of the students came in and sat down at their designated house tables. There were four in all: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Harry's house, Gryffindor. As soon as all of the students and staff members were all in the Hall and in their proper places, Professor McGonagall went out to go bring the first years in to be sorted.

            While they were sitting there, Harry and Ron were looking up and down the staff table to see who the new Dark Arts teacher was. They saw many familiar faces, including Snape's. Harry was slightly relieved to see that he looked just as displeased as usual; apparently, he was not given the coveted position. Harry pointed this out to Ron.

            "That's all well and good, but then who's the new teacher? I don't see anyone new," Ron observed.

            "Maybe Dumbledore'll announce who it is after dinner," suggested Harry.

            At that moment, McGonagall walked in with the first years right behind. Once they got to the front of the hall, the first years stopped as McGonagall went to get the Sorting Hat to begin the Sorting Ceremony. Harry couldn't help but remember his own sorting, and the massive amounts of nervousness he felt. He remembered how he could've almost been in Slytherin but asked the Hat not to put him in there. _That would've been something if I was put into Slytherin. That would support the theory that I am the next Dark Lord for sure. And being around Malfoy all the time, jeez! I probably would've put my head in a boiling cauldron by now._

            Before everyone knew it, the ceremony was over, and it was time for some announcements. All of the students including the new ones sat down and turned their attention to the staff table. Dumbledore stood up and immediately there was silence. He cleared his throat and began to speak. 

            "Welcome back old students, and welcome first years. Once again, it is time for a new term to begin here at Hogwarts. Now, I know you all are rather famished after the long journey, but it is better to get formalities out of the way before the more enjoyable aspects of the evening. As usual, Mr. Filch has a sizable list of rules for you all to observe that includes the usual no magic in the hallways and in between classes. They will be posted in the main hall this year so that you may view them at your leisure. And also no one should go near or in the Forbidden Forest, hence the word "forbidden" in the name. 

            "Now for the bad news: there will not be any trips to Hogsmeade this year. I know that this is disappointing but some other recreation event will be planned in their place. 

            "Well, what else? Ah yes! There is a new member on the Hogwarts staff. As everyone may know, the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was left often open once again last year. We have hired a new teacher, but I am afraid that they are running a bit late. As soon as they arrive, an introduction will be made. Now without further ado, the feast!" Dumbledore clapped his hands and food magically appeared on the tables. Everyone began talking and eating, and soon the Great Hall was filled with a glorious noise. 

            "That stinks about the Hogsmeade trips," Ron said through a mouth of food. "How are we going to get our supplies of sweets this year?"

            "Always thinking about the important things, aren't you?" Hermione said. "I wonder when our new teacher will get here."

            Right as Hermione said this, the door to the Great Hall opened with a bang. All turned around to see who had just walked in. Harry, Hermione, and Ron did as well, and when they laid eyes on the newcomer, looks of convoluted surprise were frozen on their faces. 

Author's Note: Man, do I suck or what! I know that everyone is going to hate me b/c of this, but maybe if I had planned out where I am trying to go with this (ultimately), this horrible cliffhanger would not have occurred. Oh well. That's why they have review thingies. Anywho, sorry for the long wait. Christmas was less than productive and now classes have begun again. Taking a "lighter load" does not mean I have more time to do stuff apparently. No matter. Just remember that reviews do help me to post more often. Special thanks to Agent 99 and Ice Queen; your pleas for another chapter actually got me off my lazy bum. Hey and everyone swing by and read Agent 99's fic, "Harry Potter and the Flesh of the Jade Guardian" and any of Camille's (I hope you're doing ok!) Wow this is the first time I've really named names in my AN. Nifty. I guess I should thank my beta Rebecca, so thanks! Alrighty, I have to go to class. Fun fun fun… Or a lack thereof. Until next time, you've got to know your chicken! 


	8. First Day Back

Disclaimer: So there I was… knee deep… and without a straw… and even then I didn't have any rights to anything in the Harry Potter universe. I only have Anita and she's making me no money. 

Quick Note: I know this may seem obvious, but I figured I'd say it anyway. Anytime there is italic writing, it denotes Harry's thoughts. I don't always say something like "Harry thought…", so I figured I'd say this little blurb. Please, continue. J 

Chapter 8

Anita Skeeter.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. How on earth did someone like her get into Hogwarts? What on earth was she doing there in the first place? He looked over at Ron and Hermione. Judging from the looks on their faces, they had the same questions running through their minds. 

Anita walked right up to the staff table and approached Dumbledore. They both shook hands and began talking. Harry was hoping that he was going to tell her to leave, but that apparently wasn't going to be the case. Once they had finished talking, Dumbledore turned to face the students and get their attention. 

"Listen for a moment. I'll make this brief. Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has just arrived. This is Professor Anita Skeeter. She has excellent qualifications and years of experience, as you will find out tomorrow when classes begin. Thank you." Dumbledore then proceeded to escort Anita out of the Great Hall. Talking resumed as before with a few mentions as to the familiarity of the new teacher's name. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other's flabbergasted looks. It was minutes later before either of them spoke. 

"How..." Hermione began.

"Dunno..." Harry answered.

"But how..." Ron asked.

"Dunno..." Harry answered again. This had to have been the first time all three of them were truly speechless. Harry's mind was going a mile a minute searching for some sort of explanation. Nothing made sense; the world had gone upside down and completely backwards. Harry pondered out loud, "There has to be an explanation. There has to be. Why would Dumbledore hire someone like that otherwise?" 

"I dunno, mate. Maybe she got fired from the Daily Prophet when she didn't get an interview with you, and now she is working here because she also studied Dark Arts and has some proficiency in it," Ron suggested.

"Honestly, that is ridiculous. You are no help at all," sighed Hermione. "There has to be something else to all this. Dumbledore wouldn't have hired her if he knew she was some sensationalist reporter. Not unless he was mad, which I doubt."

"I could ask him when I go to see him about that other stuff," Harry said. "Here I was thinking things were going to be better here." 

"Hermione's right. There has to be a sensible reason why she is here," Ron said as he resumed eating. "This year is already off to a good start. You-Know-Who is up to something, Hermione wasn't made a Prefect, you have a broken arm, and now we have Skeeter 2 as a teacher. Now I can safely say the fun never ends."

The three of them didn't say much to each other for the rest of the meal. All of the other students talked excitedly around them. Many of the other Gryffindors asked Harry what happened to his arm. He told them pretty much the truth that he had fallen off the roof; the only deviation was that he said Dudley pushed him. They accepted this explanation, and a few asked if they could sign the cast later. Fred and George eventually came and sat beside them a short while later. 

"So it seems that we have another friend on the Hogwarts faculty," Fred said with a rather smug look.

"Things are going to get interesting when we have our first Defense lesson," pointed out George. "We didn't tell anyone that we knew who she was. It'll be more amusing when she is mean to us and no one knows why."

"It'll make us look like the sweet little angles that we are," Fred said trying to look as innocent as possible. 

"Right," Ron said skeptically with a roll of his eyes. "And Neville will be made a Prefect."

"Just wait and see," George grinned. The twins got up and walked over to Angelina to give a hard time for a bit. Everyone finished eating shortly after, and Professor McGonagall announced that it was time for everyone to go to their dormitories. All of the students stood up and filed out of the Great Hall. They all broke up into their respective houses and made their way to their dormitories. Harry, Ron and Hermione were slowly trudging up the stairs behind the rest of the Gryffindors. 

"So how does it feel to be a Prefect, Hermione?" It was Lavender Brown with Pavarti Patil not too far behind. Both were coming up the stairs behind them.

Hermione stopped and turned around. "Pardon?"

"Well, aren't you a Prefect?" Pavarti asked. 

"Apparently not," Hermione mumbled while trying not to look too embarrassed. She continued up the stairs towards the portrait as the others followed.

"Then who is?" Lavender asked. Hermione was about to make a comment about the inner eye when they heard something rather unexpected. 

"Sorry deary. That isn't it either." It was coming from up ahead from the Fat Lady's portrait. All of the other students were at a complete standstill in front of it. Hermione, Ron, and Harry pushed their way to the front to see what was up.

"Golden Snitch?.... uh... Beartie Botts?... er... um..." Neville was nervously scratching his head trying to remember something while the Fat Lady sat there waiting impatiently. Hermione started to ask what was wrong, but stopped when she saw the shiny new Prefect badge pinned to the front of Neville's robes. 

"You!? You're the-" but Hermione was cut off by the appearance of Professor McGonagall. Slowly but surely she was making her way through the see of students. She clearly wasn't thrilled that the school year had barely started and there were already problems. 

"Mr. Longbottom, what is the problem here?" her mouth had become so thin that it looked like just a slit on her face. 

"Well, I… um… that is, it…er… I, uh… forgot the password," Neville lowered his head in the manner of puppy that had just done something wrong. 

McGonagall closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Harry could see she was mentally counting to ten before dealing with the situation at hand. Irritably she told him finally, "Chinese Fireball, the password is Chinese Fireball. Are there any more debacles I should know about while I am here?"

"Um, I don't think so," Neville told her quietly. He was still trying to avert her piercing gaze.

"Good, now everyone get inside and go to bed. It is terribly late." She turned around and headed back down the stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, everyone began to climb through the portrait hole. The Gryffindor common room was same as always: big, overstuffed chairs and couches everywhere with a roaring fire in the fireplace. The warm air and soft light from the candles made the room especially inviting. Once everyone was inside the common room, Neville got up in front of everyone and nervously cleared his voice to get everyone's attention.

"We-welcome to the Gryffindor common room. I um, well, the uh, first year's dorms are up the stairs there, girls on the right, boys on the left," he stopped and thought for a moment. "No wait. It's girls on the left, and boys on the right. Yes, alright, so goodnight." 

All of the students went off to their rooms. Harry, Ron and Hermione lagged behind. The two boys turned to Hermione; she still had a look of surprise on her face, and it was definitely not the good kind of surprise. It was more of bad shock, hopes dashed kind of surprise. Harry and Ron both knew it was time for damage control. 

"Well, he wasn't that bad. I'm sure he hit his stride soon. Forgetting the password could happen to any Prefect," Ron trying to sound reassuring.

Harry piped in, "Yeah, maybe they're just picking Prefects on a different standard this year. Or perhaps they have something special in mind for you."

Hermione's look of surprised faded into something worse: suppressed rage. "Right, that makes sense. Give the honor of leadership to someone who can hardly do a first year spell. I would have been alright with not being a Prefect if they made it someone remotely competent, but this… him…" the tears started coming down her face and streaking her cheeks. Her hands were clenched and arms straight at her sides. Harry hated seeing her like this. Before he could say anything, Ron decided to try the hands-on approach to the situation. He simply hugged her. Hermione buried her face in the front of his robes and let out a huge sob. Ron stroked her hair and told her everything was going to be all right. 

Harry saw that there was nothing he could add to the situation, so he went upstairs to his dorm. Dean, Seamus, and Neville were talking about their summers while getting ready for bed. Harry walked over to his bed and began digging though his trunk for his pajamas. As he was pulling his shirt over his head, Seamus asked where Ron was.

"He'll be up soon. There was something he had to take care of," he told him. 

"If he doesn't get up here soon, I'll have to deduct points," Neville was trying to assert his new found authority apparently. 

"Come on, Neville. You would actually take points off, would you?" Dean asked. 

"No," Neville slowly replied. "But I could."

Not much later, the four boys were in bed. Dean, Seamus and Neville were out in no time, but Harry lie there thinking about everything that had happened that night. _Anita Skeeter is here but why? Dumbledore apparently doesn't have a problem with her, so I shouldn't, right? In theory I suppose; she did accost me when we were at Diagon Alley. She is related to Rita and she is also a reporter. Bad combination. I've got to find out why she's here… And poor Hermione. I wonder why Neville is a Prefect. Hermione was a shoo-in for it. The world makes no sense anymore…_

*****

The first day of classes arrived bright and early like every other day. Harry rolled over and tied back the curtains on his bed. He looked over at Ron's bed; Ron was sleeping there in the same clothes that he was wearing the night before. His drapes weren't even closed. 

"Oy, Ron! Wake up! We have to get to breakfast to get our schedules!" Harry took his sock off and threw it so it landed on top of Ron's face. 

Ron groaned and knocked the sock off. "Ugh, is time to get up already? Not fair."

"Were you up that late consoling Hermione?" 

"I guess. That whole Prefect thing really upset her, but I think she was feeling better when she stopped crying."

"That's good. I hope she's doing better now that she's had some rest. Now c'mon. Time for breakfast."

The two got dressed and set off for breakfast. Many students were already in the Great Hall eating by the time they got there and Hermione was one of them. She didn't look as upset as she had last night; she was more or less appeared to be deep in thought while slowly eating her cereal. Harry went and sat down across form her; Ron sat next to her. 

"So, are you feeling better?" Harry asked. 

"I suppose so. Mind you, I am still not happy with all this, but I am going to find why this has happened. I'll sleep easier once I know," said Hermione. She seemed set on this course of action. 

"Just don't overreact or anything," Ron told her.

"And what makes you think I will overreact?" Hermione asked. 

Ron shrugged his shoulders and stuffed a piece of bacon in his mouth. More students filtered in and it wasn't long till the hall was filled. Teachers came around and started passing out schedules for the year. Professor McGonagall was passing out schedules to the Gryffindors. Once, she gave the three of them theirs, they let out a groan at the same time.

"I can't believe we start our day with double Potions and with the Slytherins nonetheless! Whoever makes these schedules doesn't like us," complained Ron.

"This has to be a conspiracy for us to fail potions," Harry added. "What a way to begin the day."

"It just gets better afterwards, because after Potions we have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw," Hermione told them.

"The gift that keeps on giving," sighed Ron. 

They finished their breakfast and headed towards the dungeons. They descended down the stairs into the damp, dreary room where their class was held. They sat down in some seats that were in the back and on the opposite side of where the Slytherins were gathering. _With any luck, class will begin soon and we won't have to deal with…_

"Great, we have to start our morning with Scar head, the mudblood and her servant. It is a shame how this institution is going to waste." It was Draco flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Can't you at least come up some original insults?" Ron said in an annoyed tone. 

"Why waste good material on people who don't appreciate it?" replied Draco.

Harry didn't feel like dealing with Malfoy this early in the morning. "Listen, why don't you and your Neanderthals go have a seat? It's too soon to start this game again."

"Like I'm actually going to follow a suggestion of yours. You may have gotten an upperhand back in Diagon Alley, but don't think you can call the shots," Draco was trying to look menacing, but for anyone so self absorbed, menacing is difficult to accomplish.

Just as Harry was about to point this out, the dungeon door violently swung open; Professor Snape was ready for class to begin. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle gave Harry one last sneer before taking their seats with the rest of the Slytherins. 

Snape took his place in front of the class. Leaning on his desk with his arms crossed, he looked around the room surveying all of the students. All of the Slytherins looked relaxed while the Gryffindors wore anxious expressions; Snape was notorious for favoring the students of his own house and being God awful to all others. At the moment, he seemed to be plotting his first move, thus setting the tone for the rest of the year. 

"So we meet again," Snape's greasy voice drawled. "Another year of reteaching everything you've forgotten and trying in vain to introduce new skills you need. This is going to be even more difficult since you have your O.W.L.s at the end."

All of the students let out a pitiful moan. Other years had been rough, but now they had to study long and hard for their O.W.L.s. Harry thought that this would take all the fun out of the year. 

A malicious smile crept across Snape's face. "Well now, since you all are so eager and excited, I suppose we'll officially start the year with a quiz to see what level everyone is."

"Bloody hell!" One of the Gryffindors had lost their inner monologue for a moment. 

The rest of the class time was spent with all the students silently trying to remember how to concoct a simple sleeping draught and when it was safe to use nightshade in a potion. When class ended, there was a stampede to leave the dungeon. Harry didn't think that he got anything right on that quiz. Ron didn't even get half way through the quiz. Hermione finished it before class was up; when she turned it in though, Snape gave her some extra questions to do.

"What a bloody terrible thing to do first day of classes!" Ron exclaimed once they were a good distance from the potions classroom. 

"Even for him, that was pretty low," Harry agreed.

"C'mon, we have to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione.

The three sped off so as not to be late. Harry felt a bit nervous about this class; what in the world was he to expect? This was someone who apparently wanted to exploit him. In what way was this conducive to learning? All Harry could think was, _Watch your step. Constant vigilance!_

They were just feet away from entering the classroom. Most of the other Gryffindors were already inside and seated. Harry heart was beating a mile a minute. _Here goes nothing…_

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

"If this is how she does things, this professor will last as long as the rest," Seamus said after waiting for twenty minutes for their Defense professor to show up.

"Yeah, and she looked halfway cool, too," added Dean.

"Isn't there a time limit on how long we have to wait for a professor?" Ron asked. "I mean, don't we get to leave if they don't show up after a certain amount of time?"

"There is no such rule," informed Hermione. "It's just something someone made up."

"I thought that it had to be too good to be true," sighed Ron.

"Maybe she's been sacked already. Maybe Dumbledore found out who she really was," Harry said hopefully.

"Hello class. Sorry I'm late," Professor Skeeter had arrived. "I was already running late, and since it's been forever since I've been here, I got lost and became even later."

Harry noticed that she didn't look like she did when they saw her in Diagon Alley. Her robes simple and deep blue; her glasses were small and oval shaped. Besides the hair, one wouldn't think that she looked like or was related to Rita. She walked to the desk in the front of the room and set down a box of supplies she was carrying. Everyone in the room was tense; no one knew what to expect. She then reached in and pulled out a sheet and began to call role.

"Terry Boot?"

"Here.

_I wonder what she'll do when she gets to my name?_

"Seamus Finnigan?"

"Here."

"Hermione Granger?"

"Present," she responded as innocently as possible. Skeeter slightly raised her eyebrow when Hermione answered, but continued down the list.

_She apparently remembers Hermione. Somehow, that doesn't bode well for me._

"Neville Longbottom?"

"Here ma'am."

_Getting closer…_

"Pavarti Patil?"

"Here."

"Harry Potter?"

_Eep._ "Here."

"Dean Thomas?"

"Present."

_Hey wait a minute. She didn't do anything, not even an eyebrow! What in the world is she playing at?_

"Ron Weasley?"

"Uh, here."

"Right, all present and accounted for. Now let's see," Skeeter leaned against the desk and appeared to be deep in thought. "Well, introductions on my part are in order, I suppose. My name is Anita Skeeter. Until this year, I was a free-lance writer for many things, including the Daily Prophet. However, I also have years of experience in combating the Dark Arts. Many articles that I have worked on have taken me to some dangerous places, so I had to know how to keep myself safe. I've studied with some of the greatest wizards and witches so that I could go and get the stories I wanted. In the end, all I am saying is that I am highly qualified and not another Lockheart."

The class laughed at this and everything became more relaxed. Harry couldn't help but smirk at the comment, too; however, he wasn't going to let his guard down. Skeeter was passing out packets of papers to all the students.

"O.W.L.s. You've got them this year. So it is up to me to make sure that you all know your stuff and can pass. Here's a packet with everything you need to know for the exam. We are going to spend the first few weeks this term reviewing everything so I can get a feel as to what level everyone is at. Then we will move on to defense against curses. After all this is a "Defense" against the Dark Arts class." Skeeter looked at her watch and seemed to be deciding something. "Well, I didn't have much planned for today, so feel free to leave. Read over your packets and tell me next class if there is anything that you are fuzzy on."

Everyone filed out of class, chatting excitedly about wonderful the new Defense professor was. 

"Wow, that was great! We have an extra hour added to our lunch time," Ron exclaimed. 

"She definitely seems to know what she is doing. I wonder more about her though, especially after the incident last summer. She seems like a completely different person," pondered Hermione. 

"She does seem on the level and cool in class. But you know what they say, 'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,'" pointed out Harry.

  
"What's wrong with Greeks bearing gifts?" asked Ron.

"I swear, all you know about is food and quidditch," sighed Hermione. 

*****

The rest of the day passed without much excitement. Harry went to the rest of his classes and for the most part, all of the professors talked about O.W.L.s and their importance. By the end of the day, Harry had a rather large stack of study packets. He didn't know how in the world he was going to remember everything for the exams. 

That night in Gryffindor tower, everyone was talking excitedly about their first day. Fred and George were introducing themselves to the first years with their usual Ton-Tongue Toffees, Canary Creams and a new concoction, Pig Latin lollipops. These made whoever ate them speak in Pig Latin for the duration of the lollipop and a short time after it was finished. Harry and Ron were having a good laugh at them while playing a game of wizard chess. Hermione decided to spend her evening going through the packets and making a list of anything that she wasn't sure about. 

"One of these days, I'll beat you." Harry had just lost his fourth consecutive game. 

"No you won't you won't. You're a terrible player. Heck, even Ginny could beat you," Ron told him. 

"I'm not that bad, am I?" Harry asked Hermione. 

"Don't look at me. Chess isn't my game either," Hermione said not looking up from her packet.

"Alright then, fifth time is a charm." Harry began to set the board up again.

"Fine, I'll just beat you again," shrugged Ron.

Four games later, they all went to bed. Harry came close to beating Ron at one point, but only because they changed the rules for one game; Harry got two moves for every one of Ron's. Harry sleepily put on his pajamas and climbed into bed. Before he could even reflect on what kind of day it was, Harry was asleep. 

Author's Note: Nothing like some Run DMC while writing. It's tricky, tricky tricky tricky. Anywho, yes, I did feel a bit bad that I left another cliffie; kind of knew that I was going to use Anita, but I had to work it out before I committed. I was trying to get this one out quicker, but I guess I have the same old excuses as usual. Unfortunately, I have bad news. I have to begin work on a term paper (for you non-college types, this is an incredibly long paper, about 20 pgs, going in-depth on some boring subject, in this case, the diplomacy involved in the creation of the Panama Canal. I'm going to title it, "Dig a hole, dig a hole, dig a hole!") Sadly, my creative-type writing will be on hold, but don't fret! I've asked a friend of mine to guest write chap. 9. We are discussing and working things out. I see it as a way to get the break I need and a way to keep the story going. I will be guiding her and approving everything of course. So I guess we'll see how this goes. Agent 99, thanks for the kudos! And thanks to those of you who kept on bugging me and/or sent me emails with suggestions; there too many of y'all to list, which is most excellent J If you'd like an email when I post again, just leave your email address in your review. I'll check them and add them to my list for updates. Well, I guess that is it for now. I'll catch y'all on the flip side. ¡Adios amigos! And don't forget to review. 


	9. Halloween Happenings

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and if I did, I would be working on getting the next book done and released to the public.  
  
Note: This chapter was written by my good friend, Becca.  
  
A few weeks went by without incident, but Harry barely noticed. With all the schoolwork bogging him down and on top of preparing for his impending O.W.L.s, he also had quidditch practice. The new captain was Katie Bell and she was almost as insane as Wood. She insisted on practices every morning and evening. Granted, they weren't as long as one of Wood's practices, but they were still twice a day. They had managed to find a new keeper. He was a first year named Alex Reynolds. He had to beg McGonagall for a chance to tryout. She was hesitant, but he reminded her that Harry played his first year. She felt it fair to him the chance, and it turned out that Alex was the best candidate for the position. Harry remained cautious of Anita Skeeter, but so far she hadn't mentioned anything of their meeting in Diagon Alley or ask for any interviews. She had taken a liking to Fred and George though; she was one of the few teachers who found their jokes funny. Snape was being especially harsh, and Professor Trelawney was trying to force open the students' inner eyes. However, the future remained just as cloudy as ever. All in all, it was a fairly normal term at Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
On this particularly brisk day in the middle of October, Harry and Ron were on their way to visit Hagrid. They trekked across the lawn and came up to the door. Ron knocked rather sedately.  
  
"Hullo!" said Hagrid as he greeted the two boys at the door. Fang panted behind him, trying to lunge at Harry and Ron in excitement.  
  
"Hello, Hargid," Ron and Harry greeted. Fang was finally able to break free of Hagrid and lunged at Harry, licking his face.  
  
"Hello Fang," said Harry while trying to get away from Fang's slobbering. Hagrid grabbed Fang and led Ron and Harry to the table.  
  
"Where's Hermione at?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"She's still upset about the whole prefect thing," Ron explained. "She's gone completely over the bend with her schoolwork because of it. She's practically teaching the classes for the teachers."  
  
"Yeah," Harry continued, "she hardly says two words to us anymore. She's either doing homework, studying got the O.W.L.s or glaring at Neville."  
  
"She's just upset. She isn't the type to take defeat so easily. It's just hard for people like her to accept defeat. She just wants to be the best and for once she isn't. Hermione'll get over it and learn from the experience," Hagrid explained. Harry and Ron both looked skeptical. Hagrid saw their looks and decided to change the subject. "Anyway, have you two thought about what you're going to dress up as for Halloween?"  
  
Ron brightened noticeably. At the beginning of the month, Dumbledore had announced that this Halloween, Hogwarts was going to have a costume contest in addition to the traditional feast. Everyone was excited about indulging in the traditional muggle fashion, and ideas about costumes were being whispered back and forth between students all over campus.  
  
"It's a surprise," Ron declared. Harry just rolled his eyes. Ron had been very secretive about his plans for his costume. He was determined to win the prize for best overall costume, and frankly Harry was growing quite tired of his extreme secrecy.  
  
"Well then Harry, any news with you?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"Harry and Ron exchanged a look. "No, nothing important," Harry quietly answered. The kettle whistled, saving Harry from further questioning.  
  
October 31st was a crisp, cool day, perfect for any festivities. Classes were fairly lax, what with everyone so excited about the Halloween feast and the costume contest. The professors were all in a jovial mood. Well, most at least. Professor Snape was downright vicious; he wasn't really in the Halloween spirit. At the current moment, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting quietly staring at the clock in Potions class. The last classes of the day were being let out early so that the students would have plenty of time to prepare their costumes. The rest of the students in the school could already be heard milling around having already been let out of class. Professor Snape, on the other hand, refused to let his students out until the last possible second, which was exactly 6…5…4…3…2…1! However, Snape wasn't about to release them yet. The seconds kept ticking by and still Snape sat there with a cruel, twist of a smile. He was clearly enjoying his students suffering; he was looking around the room, taking in the anxious looks on the students' faces. Two more minutes passed before Snape finally allowed the students to leave. Ron tore out of the classroom to get ready for the feast. Hermione and Harry were left lagging behind.  
  
"Are you sure you won't come?" Harry asked Hermione for the thousandth time.  
  
"Positive," Hermione answered stiffly. The look she gave Harry told him to drop the conversation. It was a look he'd come to know well and heed to. They quietly walked the rest of the way back to their Gryffindor Tower. Harry went on upstairs to heck on Ron while Hermione set up her corner in the common room within glaring distance of Neville. When Harry arrived in front of his dorm room, he found Seamus and Dean standing there impatiently.  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked the two boys. Dean looked over at Harry with an irritated look on his face.  
  
"Ron's locked himself in there and is refusing to let us in until he's finished getting ready," Dean explained. Harry walked over to the door and knocked loudly on it. There was a muffled bang, and then an answer of "what?" from Ron inside.  
  
"It's Harry. Let us in please," Harry said.  
  
"Hold your broomsticks. I'll be out in just a few minutes," Ron yelled back.  
  
Harry sighed deeply, walked over and sat down next to Seamus and Dean to wait. Forty-five minutes later, the door creaked open. Harry, Seamus and Dean all ambled inside grumbling. Seamus stopped dead in his tracks causing Harry and Dean to bump into him.  
  
"Oy! What the…," Harry trailed off as he looked up to catch sight of the spectacle before him. There Ron stood, looking resplendent in a neat black tuxedo with his hair slicked back.  
  
"So, what do you think?" Ron asked.  
  
"Uh, what are you?" Harry asked.  
  
"Bond…James Bond," he said in as deep a voice as he could achieve. "I visited Hermione this summer, and she showed me this 'movie' (I think it was called.) It had this slick bloke in it, so I thought that it would be fun being him."  
  
Seamus looked confused. "Who's this slick bloke supposed to be?"  
  
Dean jumped in. "He's brilliant! He's a spy! He has fun gadgets that do all kinds of things!"  
  
"Yeah, he is pretty neat," Harry agreed. "But back when I went to muggle school, Dudley would get together with his friends and they would pretend they were spies like James Bond. They made me be the bad spy so that he and his friends could beat me up."  
  
While Dean explained who James Bond was to Seamus, Harry quickly got dressed in his pitiful ghost costume that Nearly Headless Nick had talked him into. Seeing as how he was so caught up in his activities, Harry hadn't given a costume too much thought. He walked down to the common room to find Ron; he was surrounded by other Gryffindors who were admiring his costume. The muggle-borns were particularly impressed and explained to the wizard- borns who James Bond was. After a while, Harry was able to drag Ron away from his crowd of admirers, and they both made their way down to the feast.  
  
The Great Hall was in fine form. Bats and ghosts flew around the room, which began to fill with students dressed as monsters, quidditch players, and famous wizards and witches. Ron was quickly surrounded by people complimenting him on his costume. Ron chose this moment to reveal another part of his costume: James Bond gadgets. He had a watch that when one pressed a button on it, it would produce a minor explosion. Once it exploded, the watch would return to normal. Fred and George helped him make it. Ron also had a squirt gun; he mainly used it to strike rather silly poses in an effort to imitate Bond. While he was showing off to everyone, Harry sat down at the table. He felt a little snubbed, but he stopped and thought for a moment. Did Ron feel like this when ever he got such attention? No wonder he got so mad at Harry last year. Harry thought hat perhaps he shouldn't begrudge Ron his moment in the sun.  
  
While Harry was sitting there watching the other students, someone quickly sat down next to him. Harry looked over to see who it was and came face to face with himself.  
  
"Hi Harry!" It was Colin Creevey. "Do you like my costume?" Harry just sat there dumbfounded. Colin was dressed just like Harry normally was. He was wearing a black, unruly wig, and a pair of glasses exactly the same as Harry. He also had painted a lightening bolt on his forehead.  
  
Thankfully, Harry was saved from having to comment by Dumbledore tapping on his glass. The rest of the students quickly sat down and gave the Headmaster their full attention. Harry glanced around the room as Professor Dumbledore gave his usual greeting for the Halloween feast. Almost everyone dressed up. There were a few older students who thought that the idea was too childish and had refrained from taking part. Many of the teachers dressed up as well; McGonagall had cat ears transfigured onto her head and whiskers on her cheeks. Snape of course wasn't dressed up at the least. He just sat at the table with the most distasteful sneer on his face. Harry chuckled to himself at Snape's obvious distress over seeing so many people happy at once. Harry then noticed that everyone had begun to eat; he had been to focus on looking around to notice that Dumbledore had stopped talking. Harry dug in to the food like the others.  
  
As the plates were cleared, a nervous excitement flowed over everyone in the hall. The professors were walking around the room, looking at the various costumes. They stopped from time to time to write something down or ask a student about their costume. Ron was practically bouncing up and down in his seat in excitement.  
  
"I wish Hermione were here. I want her to see me win," Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
"I'll go find her. I'm sure I can convince her to come and hear the winners," Harry responded.  
  
Harry made his way up to Gryffindor tower. After giving the Fat Lady the password of the moment ("hogwash"), he walked into the eerily quiet common room. The lights were dim and it didn't look as though Hermione was there.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry called. No one answered. Harry searched the common room and knocked on the dorms. On his way back down to the common room, Harry walked pass his own dorm room.  
  
Just as he passed the room, Harry heard a faint. He couldn't make out what it was, but it sent a chill through his body. Harry walked inside to investigate, but he saw nothing there. The beds were all made, windows closed and everything in its place. Apparently I've gone off my rocker, he thought. Harry turned to leave when he heard a knocking at his window. He knew what was coming. Harry walked closer to the place where the noise was coming from. At the window closest to his bed his worst fears were confirmed. It was the same as the other letters that had appeared on his window at the Dursleys. Harry timidly picked up and opened the letter:  
  
Happy Halloween! I do so hope you're enjoying yourself. It's been awhile since our last little chat. Do you still feel safe with your precious Dumbledore? I'm sure you that that life is pretty bad with that dreadful rogue reporter around. However, dear boy, that is really the least of your worries. A new friend will be joining you shortly at Hogwarts. You might want to stay in your "right" mind. Until next time…  
  
V.  
  
Harry stared blankly at the letter. A new friend, he thought to himself, what new friend? I've got to get this to Dumbledore. But Harry didn't even have a chance to take a step. As the letter was engulfed into flames, a blinding pain seared through his forehead and shot through the rest of his body, blurring his vision until everything turned black.  
  
*****  
  
Madam Pomfrey was checking on another patient when she noticed Harry stirring in his bed. As Harry struggled to sit up, Madam Pomfrey gently pushed him back down into the bed.  
  
"How are you dear?" she asked concerned.  
  
"Fine, where's Professor Dumbledore? I need to speak to him," Harry said.  
  
"I'll go and find him, but only if you stay in this bed and don't move," Madam Pomfrey said and then rushed out to go fetch the professor. As Harry lay there trying to remember the letter and all that had happened, Professor Dumbledore appeared at his side.  
  
"Professor, there was another-" Harry started.  
  
"Shhh, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "First thing I want to know is how are you feeling?"  
  
"I'm fine, just a bit of a headache," answered Harry.  
  
"Good, now you can explain what happened to you," Dumbledore said. Harry quickly told the professor about the previous letters and the newest one. Dumbledore nodded quietly throughout his whole explanation. As Harry finished, Dumbledore sat back in his chair with a very contemplative look on his face.  
  
"Well Harry, I honestly don't know what these letters are or if they are actually from Lord Voldemort. It could be a prank performed by one of his followers for all we know," he solemnly stated. Harry looked less than thrilled at this statement. "I just don't know why he would even bother playing such a game."  
  
"I just want it to stop so that I can have a normal year for once," Harry lamented. Just then he thought of another question to ask. "What about Professor Skeeter? Could she have something to do with this?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled secretively. "I assure you Harry, Anita has absolutely nothing to do with the situation. After the incident in Diagon Alley, I do not blame you for your suspicions, but you have nothing to worry about where Anita is concerned. And I also assure you that I am working on your situation and will get to the bottom of the mystery as soon as I can."  
  
Dumbledore then left Harry to rest. Harry sat up for quite a while mulling over the events of from the previous night. Dumbledore's statements and who could possibly be coming to Hogwarts rattled around in his head, searching for answers. Harry's last coherent though before he drifted off to sleep was whether or not Ron had won the contest.  
  
  
  
Guest Author's Note: I'm a member of the Slackers Anonymous Society, so that is why it took me so long to get this chapter done. Don't blame Veronica; blame me.  
  
Author's Note: S'ok Becca. I don't hate you, nor do I blame you. A bit of info for the readers: This is Becca's first attempt at fanfic writing. I highly encourage constructive criticism. She's helped me out immensely by doing this chapter. Spring semester is over now (Yay!) but it is now time for Maymester (Boo!) That's ok though, because it'll be over next Thursday. After that, I've got nothing. And since my job is a joke, I'll have plenty of time to write. The next chapter is outlined and half-way written so y'all shouldn't have to wait as long. Sorry for the wait though. We apologize profusely. Until chapter 10, keep it real! 


	10. The Bizarre Day

Disclaimer: Maybe when I'm the supreme tyrant of the world, then I'll buy the rights to the Harry Potter universe. However for the moment, I don't own them, and I hardly have enough money to buy food. 

Chapter 10

Two days after the Halloween incident, Harry was released from the hospital wing and not a moment too soon. Madam Pomfrey was driving him crazy with her overbearing care. One more temperature taking and Harry was going to break the thermometer in half. As Harry left the hospital wing, he slowly walked back to Gryffindor tower. He was afraid of what he would find there, how everyone would react. This year had been going so well too. 

            He climbed the stairs and approached the Fat Lady. "Hogwash," he said and she swung open. It wasn't time for classes to start yet, so the common room was completely deserted. Harry was thankful for this reprieve and headed up to the dormitory. He reached for the doorknob and paused for a moment. From inside the dorm, Harry heard muffled grunts and banging. _I know what that means. When Harry opened the door he saw Ron hopping around the room, trying to pull on one of his socks. _

            "Running late again, eh?" Harry asked.

            Ron stopped hopping and smiled. "Hey mate! How're you doing?" 

            "Better, conscious," he replied. "How did the costume contest go?" 

            "I won! It was great!" Ron yelled ecstatically. "I didn't believe it when Dumbledore announced that I won." 

Harry smiled. "That's great, Ron. You deserved it. I mean, you worked really hard on that costume." 

"Yeah, it was great and all, but what happened to you? I came up here looking for you, and there you were on the floor over there." Ron gestured towards the window by Harry's bed. "Was it another letter?"

Harry nodded and told Ron everything that had happened, what the letter said and what Dumbledore said. "And so now I have to worry about who's going to show up here."

            "Well, at least you can stop worrying about Anita. You've got confirmation from both sides that she's okay."

            "Are you going to dismiss her that easily as well? There's always the possibility-"

            "There's always the possibility that a hippogriff will descend from the sky and kiss you on the bum, but those odds are slim to none. It seems as though you have more immediate threats to deal with."

"Did I wake up in an alternate universe or are you making sense?"

            "Well, someone has to since Hermione's gone AWOL," said Ron matter-of-factly. He had finally gotten his socks on and was now tying his shoes. 

            "You're right. I should minimize my list of worries," Harry sighed. He grabbed his bagged and started to cram books into it. Just as the two boys finished getting ready, the door burst open. 

            "There you are!" Hermione exclaimed. She looked a bit out of breath and also a bit worried. A napkin with a few pieces of toast wrapped in it was in her hand. "I went by the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey said she'd already released you. I brought you some breakfast." She offered Harry the toast.

            "Thanks," said Harry. He took the toast and nibbled on it. He didn't feel terribly hungry.

            "What happened? I was in the library on Halloween and when I came back here, Ron said he found you..." Tears swelled up in Hermione's eyes. "Oh Harry! I'm so sorry I've been so out of it lately. If you hadn't of gone looking-" 

            "Hermione! Calm down!" Harry jumped up and hugged his soon-to-be-sobbing friend. "That letter was going to come no matter what. It's okay, really."

            He released her and she dried her eyes. "Well... I still feel bad."

            "You can make it up by dropping this prefect and over-achiever nonsense," Ron suggested.

            "You can then help me figure out what in the world is going on," added Harry.

            Hermione thought for a moment and smiled at them. "Alright. That seems fair."

            "Fine, then it's settled," Ron said. "Now do you mind? This is the 'boys' dorm."

            Hermione rolled her eyes and flippantly said, "Oh please. Like I haven't been in here before. Besides, you two need to hurry up or else we'll be late for potions."

*****

            As with everything that happens at Hogwarts, the whole school knew about Harry's incident. Before the incident, the majority of the students didn't treat Harry that different. They didn't seem to think that Harry should've been in the nut house. Now everyone gave him plenty of room in the hallways, and whispered as he walked by. Sadly this wasn't anything new for Harry; he had been down this road before. Yet it wasn't something that got easier with time. All Harry could do was act as though it didn't bother him and go on as normally as possible.

            On his first day back, Snape gave him a nice detention for the evening. There was no acceptable excuse for an absence in this professor's eyes. Of course, Harry was furious about this injustice, but there was nothing that he could do. _Grin and bear it, he thought. __Grin and bear it._

            However, things went from bad to worse after class. 

            "Hey Potter! Nice to see that you're still alive," yelled Malfoy. "So what happened? Did you see an icky spidee and faint?"

            All of the Slytherins laughed and a few pretended to swoon and faint. Harry could feel the anger rising in him. He was incredibly sick of this treatment. His left hand tightened the grip he had on the strap of his bag. His right twitched, longing to reach for his wand inside his robe. "Well, if you really want to know, I had received a letter from Lord Voldemort. Aside from the various sundries of threats to my life, it also made this silly scar burn and it sent blinding pain throughout my body. However, I thank you for your sincere concern." As Harry finished, he watched as the smile faded somewhat from Malfoy's face. _I don't think he expected all that._

            "Sure Potter," Malfoy said after regaining the composure that he had lost. "And I'm really a mudblood. If you don't mind your behavior, they're going to prepare a special room for you at St. Mungos."

            This added fuel to the fire already burning inside Harry. His eyes fixed on Malfoy with a stare of pure, loathing malevolence. Harry felt such hatred for the other boy. _Does he only care about himself? Does he even stop to think that perhaps others are truly in pain and he does nothing to help? What would he do, if for once, he felt such pain? Harry's hand slowly pulled out his wand, almost as though it wasn't under his control anymore. Draco saw this. In response he too reached for his wand, but only while backing away._

            "What's going on here?" Professor Snape apparently didn't appreciate the gathering outside of his classroom. He looked around and caught sight of the showdown between Harry and Draco "This had better not be a fight, Potter."

            Harry was snapped out of his anger-induced state and looked up at Snape. "I was just seeing if Draco here had the notes that I missed." 

            "You need to lie better, Potter," the professor drawled. Harry didn't think that was going fly anyway.

            "No really," Draco spoke up. Harry's jaw almost dropped, as did Snape's. "I'll let you borrow them at lunch time."

            As Draco turned and walked off, both Harry and Snape could only watch with perplexed looks on their faces. Harry couldn't believe that Draco covered for him. Someone up there must love him or some place down there just froze over. 

            "Fine then," Snape spat. He turned and as he walked back to the class, he said, "Go bother someone else." 

            Everyone quickly cleared out. Harry fell to the back of the crowd, as did Hermione and Ron. The realization of what just happened began to sink in for Harry. He couldn't believe his behavior. _I just wasn't myself then .Why?_

            "What was that all about? That look you had was bloody frightening," Ron said with a small shiver. 

            Sweat was building on Harry's forehead. "I don't know." 

            "It was downright unnerving, Harry. It didn't seem like you at all." Hermione voiced what Harry was thinking. He didn't want to admit however; the implications were too discomforting to think about. 

            "I don't know," Harry said again. He picked up that pace and walked briskly to class. 

*****

            Their next class was Defense. Harry went straight to the back of the class and sat down. He knew that he wasn't going to pay much attention; he just didn't want to be too conspicuous about it. A few minutes before class began, Professor Skeeter walked in with a few books in her arms. She set them down on the desk and turned to the class.

            "Right-o, today we're going to continue our work on with blocking curses. Let's review real quick." She looked around the room. "Ron!"

            Ron jumped in his seat. He didn't expect that Skeeter would actually call on him. "Uh, yes ma'am?" 

            "What is the name of the block that is the most versatile?" 

            Ron shuffled through his notes quickly, searching for the answer. "It's... the... polymetis block."

            "Excellent. And who can tell me what its down side is?" Again, Skeeter surveyed the room. "Lavender, would you tell us the answer?"

            "Well, it depends on how strong you are," she answered.

            "How so?"

            "Its effectiveness depends on how strong your magic is in comparison to your opponent's."

            "Very good. You and Ron just earned Gryffindor five points each. The polymetis block can be used to deflect most curses and if yours isn't strong enough, you can usually at least diminish some of the force of the curse. Now I want you to pair up and practice the block. One person will block while the other attacks. Use only jelly legs, disarming, and leg-locker spells." After she had finished giving instructions, everyone got up and found their partners. Everyone moved to the perimeter of the room so that Skeeter could move the desks out of the way. With a flick of her wand, the desks were moved and stacked at the front of the room. "Alright. You may begin."

            And they were off. Ron had paired up with Neville to make sure that Hermione didn't try to curse him to death. However, they were off to a rocky start. Neville forgot how to perform the polymetis block, and he go struck by Ron's jelly leg hex. Harry and Hermione were doing fine together; they both showed great proficiency with the block. The other pairs were getting by. 

            "Harry?" Hermione asked after a few minutes of blocking. 

            "Yes?" Harry knew where this road was going.

            "Well, what happened back there? You behaved and looked the same way like when we ran into Mr. Malfoy back in Diagon Alley," she explained. 

            Harry knew this but didn't answer. "Can't we talk about this later? I don't think this is the best setting," he said skirting the issue.

            "Fine, but we will talk about this later." She attacked him again with the disarming spell, and they continued with the exercise. After about twenty minutes, Skeeter called an end to it. Everyone stopped and a few had to shake off hexes that they were hit with. 

            "How did everyone fare?" Skeeter asked as she returned the desks to their original positions. There were a few grumbles and a couple of moans from the students. "That well? Hmmm... we'll work on this some more another time. For your homework, I want you all to research and write a report on blocks. Two feet in three days." 

            The students packed up their books and filed out of class. Harry still lagging behind everyone as he made his way towards the door. However, his journey to the hall experienced a bit of a detour.

            "Harry, could I speak to you briefly?" Skeeter asked. 

            The pit of Harry's stomach sank. "Sure." He walked over and stood in front of her desk. 

            "Harry, I'd like to apologize for our little run in in Diagon Alley this past summer. If there weren't a reason for me to have done that, then I wouldn't have. You've been through an awful lot, and I have no desire to add to that. Please accept my sincerest apologies."

            Harry was speechless. This truly must have been a dream because he could have sworn that Anita Skeeter just apologized to him. He took a deep breath and said, "Come again?" 

            "I know, you weren't expecting this. I could tell that you've been pretty apprehensive about me since day one. I honestly didn't know what to do. However I talked to Headmaster Dumbledore, and he told me that you were asking about my... mmm, let's say 'intentions.' I just want to assure you that I'm on your side, and that if you ever need help or whatnot, I'll be here." 

            _I think she's serious! "Well, I guess, alright then." Harry honestly didn't know what to say. He was so sure that she had something to do with all the strange occurrences. Yet, at this moment, he could see that she was sincere and really meant to help him. _

            "Well, good then," the professor said. She smiled and held out a hand towards Harry. He shook it and felt somewhat relieved. He look up at her and smiled back. "Now that that is out of the way, may I ask you a question?" 

            "Sure." Harry was feeling better about her by the second.

            "How are you doing? You seemed bit preoccupied when you came in to class today."

            "Oh, I'm fine," Harry managed to stammer. "I was just thinking about what happened on Halloween."

            "I can imagine. Try not to worry about it too much. Dumbledore and many others are working this whole Voldemort mess."

            "You seem pretty confident that this will be resolved rather quickly."

            "Actually, I'm not, but I try to keep things optimistic. Usually if you squint enough, you can at least trick yourself in to thinking that there's a light at the end of the tunnel." Skeeter leaned back in her chair and she got a rather distant look in her eyes. "This fight has been fought for so long, though; it just gets harder to delude yourself."

            Harry started feeling a bit uncomfortable, watching his teacher zone out. _You'd think that she was the one out there, fighting deatheaters on a daily basis. "Uh, excuse me, Professor Skeeter. May I go now? I would kind of like to grab something to eat before Herbology."_

            Skeeter snapped back to reality and stared at Harry for a moment. "Sure. I just wanted to apologize to you. I hope that your day gets better."

            Harry picked up his bag and headed for the door once again.

            "Oh and one more thing," Skeeter called behind him. "Good luck with your game on Saturday."

            Harry stopped and turned around. "Excuse me?"

            "Your game on Saturday against Slytherin. You are playing, aren't you?"

            "Yes.... Thank you," Harry replied. He had completely forgotten about the quidditch match on this weekend. And against Slytherin, to boot. That means that practice will be twice as long this evening. No sleep, and no time to ponder. Maybe that would be a good thing...

            Harry got into the Great Hall. Whispers followed as he walked down the length of the table and sat with Hermione and Ron. He grabbed a sandwich and began to viciously eat it. _Maybe I should've eaten that toast this morning._

            "What did she want? A private interview?" Ron asked.

            "Nope," Harry answered and took another bite of his sandwich. 

            "What did she want then?" Hermione asked. Harry's two friends seemed rather keen to know what had just happened.

            Harry swallowed. "She wanted to apologize." 

            "Right, now what really happened?" Ron laughed. Harry gave him as serious a look as he could muster, and Ron's laughter subsided. "You're not joking, are you?"

            "Nope. She wanted to apologize for what happened in Diagon Alley. It threw me off as well," Harry explained. He took another sandwich and paused. "I almost forgot that we had a match on Saturday and against Slytherin none-the-less."

            "How could you forget?! It's only the most important game of every year," Ron exclaimed. 

            "Honestly, Ron! Give Harry a break," Hermione chided. "Did Skeeter at least give you an explanation as to why she did what she did?" 

            "I forgot to ask, but I suppose that she had her reasons." Harry finished his sandwich and reached for another. 

            "Well, looks like I was right this morning," said Ron proudly.

            "Don't read too much into it," sighed Hermione.

*****

            Thankfully, the rest of Harry's classes passed by without any other surprises. Professor Sprout had them trimming leaves off a rather vicious plant, the _Morsure Tiqure_. It was small and resembled a violet, except that in the middle of the petals, there was a mouth with tiny, sharp teeth. The students had to stun the plants first, or they would bite. Professor Sprout warned them that the bite of the _Mosure Tiqure_ would result in paralyzation for at least a week. 

            "You won't be able to walk or talk or do anything. Certainly not conducive to playing quidditch," she said while looking directly at Harry. He had just pulled his hand away from one of the snapping mouths. There were many flowers in each pot, and Harry had forgotten to stun one. 

            "Sorry," he muttered to the professor and continued with the trimming. He, Hermione, and Ron were pretty subdued that class. There was much to consider. Plus no one really was near them or really talked to them. Dean and Seamus would occasionally try and make small talk, but it would fizzle out shortly after. 

            Class ended and everyone filed out of the greenhouses. _One more class and the day would be over. _

            "One more class and it's over!" exclaimed Ron.

            "My thoughts exactly," Harry said. "We just have to make it through-" Harry stopped. Had he forgotten everything today? Their last class was...

            "Divination," Ron finished. 

            Hermione rolled her eyes. "Trelawney is going to have a field day with you, Harry. Five sickles says that she'll tell you you're in mortal danger and that someone of ill-intentions is watching you."

            "Don't you think that that is a little too obvious?" Ron asked.

            "It right on target because all Trelawney does is state the obvious and make a bunch of silly guesses." 

            "As long as she doesn't predict my death again, I think I'll be fine," said Harry. The three split up once they were inside the castle again, Harry and Ron to Divinations and Hermione to Arithmacy. The two boys climbed the flights of stairs up to the tower, and finally up the ladder into the stuffy, dark classroom. Harry and Ron sat in some squishy chairs near the window, which was cracked open slightly. A few minutes later once everyone was present and seated, Professor Trelawney glided in with her gauzy robes floating behind her. She sat down in the armchair next to the fire and sighed deeply. 

            "Good afternoon, class," she whispered. "Today, I was informed by my inner eye that we should stop reviewing for the moment and add to our array of divination techniques."

            "I'm starting to think that her 'inner eye' is really just the voices inside her head," Ron whispered to Harry. They stifled their laughter as Trelawney continued. 

            "Very few people know the fine art of reading coffee grounds," Trelawney began. There was cough of disbelief from someone in the room. The professor ignored it and continued. "Coffee was discovered in the 5th century in Ethiopia and spread throughout the world. Many Arabian mystics used coffee to aid in there dervishes, prayer, and meditation. However, after time, some began to see coffee as a tool for divination. Reading coffee falls in the field of tasseography, which includes reading tea leaves. The process is the same as reading tea leaves, so you all should be able to do this. Come on up, pick up a cup, and I will pour some for each of you."

            Everyone got up and grabbed a cup. Trelawney sat in her armchair and poured coffee for each student. Its pungent aroma didn't strike too many people's fancies. 

            "Professor, do we have to drink this?" Pavarti asked. She looked especially displeased with the dark liquid. 

            "Yes my dear. It's the only way to get an accurate reading," she replied softly. 

            The students, once they had their coffee, sat back down and slowly drank. Many faces soured as they took their first sips of the bitter liquid. Others sat back, waiting for it to cool; their strategy was to chug it and get it over quick. Yet, there a couple of students that just lamented not having some cream and sugar to help the coffee down.

            "Professor," Neville raised his hand, "there's grounds in my cup."

            Trelawney sighed and shook her head. "Yes, Mr. Longbottom. There's supposed to be grounds in the cup. You use those to make your predictions."

            "Oh."

            "Good thing Hermione wasn't in here for that one," Harry said under his breath to Ron.

            "Now, once you've finished all of your coffee, turn the cup upside down over the saucer. Then turn the cup, while it's upside-down, three times to the right. Trade cups with some, turn the cups right side up and begin to interpret what you see. The clumps of grounds should show you signs." 

            The sounds of the last slurps and the tinkling of porcelain filled the room. Ron and Harry did what Trelawney had told them, and began reading each other's cup. 

            Ron was having just as much difficulty as he had with tea leaves. "I dunno. This looks like a hill of soggy dirt," he said pointing to a large mass of the grounds. He picked up the cup and turned it and tilted it. "Hey, if these pieces were closer together, they would look kinda like a heart. Perhaps you're going to fall in love." Ron laughed and jokingly punched Harry in the arm. 

            "That'll happen," he murmured. He examined Ron's cup, hoping to find such misfortune in his grounds. "Hmmm. I think I see a grim in yours. Well, it's been nice knowing you."

            "You're just saying that because the last time we did this, you had a grim in yours."

            "Maybe it's your turn to have a run in with death."

            "I didn't know you cared so much."

            Trelawney was walking around the room and helping those who needed it and those who didn't. Finally she got around to Harry and Ron. She stopped next to them and looked at Harry, her eyes were almost tearing up behind her insanely thick lenses. Harry wanted to crawl under the table. He had grown tired of Trelawney's concern over his future. 

            "Is this your cup, Harry?" she asked as she grabbed it out of Ron's hands. "My, my... It is so sad that there must be so much turmoil in your life. Are you feeling alright?"

            Harry gave Ron a puzzled look. Did he look like something was wrong? He felt pretty good. Ron just shrugged. Harry figured it was just Trelawney and her 'inner eye' thinking that something was up. Or her "inner eye" heard about the incident on Halloween. "I feel fine," Harry told her. "What do you see in my cup?"

            She looked intently into the cup and studied the patterns. After a few seconds, she looked back at Harry, her eyes filled with more worry and concern than before. "Oh my! The grounds show a broken heart. That certain isn't good."

            "Told you it was a heart! Some girl is going throw you for a loop," Ron laughed.

            Trelawney flashed a reprimanding look at Ron. "It could be, but a broken heart can mean more. It can represent the loss or perhaps even betrayal of anyone close. Plus it's located further inside of the cup."

            "What does that mean?" Harry was actually feeling rather curious about all this. 

            "The closer a pattern is to the lip of the cup, the closer to the present time it is. Anything on the bottom represents events and such that are awhile away yet." Trelawney continued to examine the cup and it's contents. "Oh dear! A dagger!"

            Harry knew it. "Let me guess. Someone is going to cause me great harm?"

            "Very perceptive," Trelawney nodded solemnly. "It's a little higher in the cup than the heart, and it is also opposite of the handle." 

            "And that means…" Ron began.

            "A stranger, someone you hardly know. The handle can represent familiarity, and the heart is right next to the handle. The dagger is on the completely opposite side."

            "Good for me. I suppose I'll be on the look-out for a complete stranger who wants to do me in." Harry had had enough of the "inner eye" for one class.

            "Don't be flippant about such matters. You must use this knowledge to your advantage," warned Trelawney. She walked back to her armchair and announced the end of class. The students washed out their cups and returned them to the shelves. Harry and Ron quickly did this and were the first students down the ladder. They walked briskly to Gryffindor Tower. 

            "I don't know why, but for some reason I believe all that," Harry told Ron as they walked. "My gut is telling me that there was something to all that coffee nonsense."

            "I'm there with you," agreed Ron. "Let's tell Hermione. She's skeptical enough to make us forget all about it."

            They got up to Gryffindor tower and found Hermione hunkering down for another afternoon of intense studying. She looked up as they approached her. "What's up with you two? You both look like you've gotten some bad news."

            "You could say that," Harry said. "It was quite strange what happened in Divination just now."

            "Please tell me that woman denounced divination as mere guess work and is going to do something productive with her life from now on."

            "Isn't that a bit harsh?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

            "Nope."

            "Anyway," Harry said a bit impatiently, "we were reading coffee grounds today and it was rather strange what she said about my grounds." 

            "Yeah," Ron jumped in. "Trelawney said that his grounds showed that someone close to him will betray him and that there's a complete stranger out to get him."

            Hermione stared at them rather blankly. "Doesn't that mean that someone owes me five sickles?"

            "In that letter from Voldemort, he said that someone was coming here from Hogwarts. What if it's someone I don't know? And this may be a stretch but what if they want to do me in? I can only assume that this person is in cahoots with Voldemort." 

            Hermione sighed. "Perhaps, but then again I don't put much stock in that divination stuff and neither should you. If I were you, I'd wait until a strange person showed up here or some other strong evidence to support all this. Besides, shouldn't you be at quidditch practice?"

            "Bloody hell! I almost forgot again!" Harry ran upstairs, grabbed his broom and sprinted out to the quidditch pitch. He changed as quickly as possible in the locker room and ran out onto the field. As he ran he mounted his broom and flew up to where Angelina was hovering. 

            "Sorry," Harry panted, "I'm late."

            "It's ok," said Angelina reassuringly. "We just started anyway. Everyone seems to be behind today." 

            "Well, what are we up to at the moment?" Harry was anxious to get out there. It had been a few days since he last practiced. 

            "Actually, I need to speak to you for a moment," she solemnly said. "Are you feeling ok?" 

            Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm feeling just fine, and Halloween was not an indication as to how well I will perform in the game on Saturday. I'm perfectly ok to play."

            "Well, I just worry. We're playing Slytherin you know."

            Harry didn't know that. Well, he knew that earlier in the day when Professor Skeeter reminded him. Yet again that important fact was somehow forgotten. "Uh, yeah. Sure. I know we're playing them. Now can I go and practice now? I want to be in top knotch shape."

            "Go ahead. I just wanted to make sure you were up to this." 

            "Sure am," Harry said as he flew off to join the rest of the team. Throughout the entire practice, Harry worked really hard, concentrating intensely on the snitch. This proved difficult since there were so many things buzzing around in his head. He knew that there was very little that he could do about everything, but the anxieties were still there distracting him. The two most distracting things were "who is coming" and "why did I behave that way," both of which he had nothing to go on. 

            Practice finally ended after some time and Harry quickly got dressed. He left before the rest of the team, so he wouldn't have to answer any more questions. All Harry wanted to do was eat dinner, do some homework and go to bed. However, that wasn't going to happen because he had a detention to serve that night after dinner. _I really don't think that this day is going to end. _

*****

            Dinner was proceeding uneventfully. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat a little apart from everyone else. Not so much because they wanted the privacy. It was more or less the apprehensive looks from their classmates that caused the trio to keep their distance. 

            "It'll blow over after a while," reassured Hermione. They mostly sat there in silence, eating their stew. Harry noticed, towards the end of their meal, no one was getting up and leaving the Great Hall. 

            "Is something up?" Harry asked after noticing this. "Why isn't anyone leaving?"

            "Didn't your last teacher tell you? There's going to be some big announcement after dinner," Hermione explained. 

            "Hmmm. We missed that one," Ron said thoughtfully. "Trelawney's inner eye probably overlooked that announcement."

            "Figures," sighed Harry. They sat there with the rest of the students, waiting with bated breath for whatever announcement was supposed to come. "What is the announcement supposed to be about anyway?"

            Hermione shrugged. "Professor Vector didn't say."

            "I guess we'll find out soon enough," Ron said. He indicated towards the front of the Great Hall. Dumbledore had just walked in with McGonagall at his side and a stranger right behind the two of them. The stranger seemed to be a wizard who was in his late fifties. He had thin, balding, gray hair that was impeccably combed into place. His robes were of the drabbest of grays with wide, black bands around the cuffs. All in all, he looked like a boring professional. However, his eyes caught Harry's attention. The stranger's face was incredibly neutral, but his eyes darted about from behind his thick framed glasses. It was as though the stranger was searching for something. 

            Dumbledore and McGonagall's feelings were clearly written on their faces. They didn't seem the least bit pleased, either about the announcement, the stranger, or perhaps both. The two professors strode up to the staff table and took their seats. The stranger kept up with their quick pace, but was a bit shocked to see that there was no seat for him. With an exasperated look on her face, McGonagall conjured a rather rickety old chair for him and placed it between her and Dumbledore. 

            "Wow. This doesn't look like it's going to be pleasant," Ron muttered. 

            "Yeah," agreed Harry and Hermione. 

            Dumbledore took a few moments to breathe before standing up again to make the announcement. No words were necessary to quiet the students, and as soon as the Great Hall was silent, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began. 

            "As promised by your professors, I have an announcement, one of the utmost importance." Dumbledore seemed barely able to squeeze out these last two words. "To my right is a new face you will be seeing around Hogwarts for only a short while hopefully. His name is Dr. Goody, and he was sent here at the ministry's request. Dr. Goody is charged with observing and monitoring you all in light of last year's unfortunate events. I am told he is merely here to help, so let's give him a warm welcome."

            The students began to applaud, but only tentatively. No one seemed to know what to think about Dr. Goody or his purpose here at Hogwarts. _There's something strange about all this,_ thought Harry. It seemed to be the end of the announcement, so the students began to filing out of the Great Hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed and watched for a few minutes as some of the teachers got up and introduced themselves. 

            "I think there's some work that we have to tend to," Hermione said finally. 

            "I'm sure there is," Harry sighed. They got up and were some of the last students to leave the hall. They slowly trudged up the stairs heading towards Gryffindor Tower. Hermione stopped once the three of them were alone. 

            "Harry, I hate to say this but," Hermione began, "I'd stay away from that doctor if I were you."

            Harry and Ron stopped as well. "What makes you say that?" Harry asked. He had a similar feeling, but wanted to hear Hermione's reasoning. 

            "Well, we know that Dumbledore and the Ministry are on the outs. Plus we know that there are those in the Ministry who question you." Harry nodded. This was all made apparent at the end of last year, when the headmaster and Cornelius Fudge essentially parted ways after the Triwizard. Hermione continued, "Well, all that plus the mention of a new arrival in your most recent letter lead me to believe that this is not good."

            "Hey! There's also Trelawney's coffee ground predictions. A stranger who wishes you harm!" Ron added a little too eagerly.

            "Let's not give her any credit, please," said Hermione impatiently.

            I definitely don't get a good feeling from him," said Harry as he considered everything.

            "You're going to have to be careful, especially after what happened today," added Hermione. "Speaking of that, it's later, so what's your explanation?"

            "And again I say, I don't know," Harry said. "I know I didn't seem like myself and somehow I don't think I was. That's all I can say really. I just don't know. I wish I knew because it scared the bejeesus out of me when it happened. It's like I lose control."

            "Don't worry mate," Ron assured him. "We'll get to the bottom of this. We're your friends, so we're going to help you."

            "Is it me, or is he making sense?" Hermione asked. 

*****

            Harry left Hermione and Ron after their short conversation. He had a detention to get to, and if he was late, Snape would give him another. And that would start some sort of vicious cycle. When Harry finally arrived in the dungeon, he was out of breath but on time. Snape was sitting behind his desk waiting. 

            "Just barely on time Potter," he sneered. "Fortunately for you, I don't have all night to deal with you, so we'll keep this short."

            "The usual, then?" Harry asked.

            "Which is…"

            "Clean all the cauldrons with a toothbrush and no magic."

            "Almost as good as a trained monkey. Now get to work." Snape went back to the papers he was grading, and Harry got started on his work. There was virtually no talking, except when Snape came to inspect Harry's progress. Two hours and thirteen cauldrons later, Snape dismissed Harry with a wave and an irritated grunt.

            Harry gently massaged his hands as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower. _At this rate, I'm going to have carpal tunnel syndrome by the time I graduate._ His quiet walk was soon interrupted by voices coming down a corridor just ahead of him. Instinct kicked in and Harry ducked behind a tapestry. He pulled on the bottom slightly to make the tapestry still. Once he was sure he was hidden, Harry listened.

            "Look, I don't see why we can't just tell him to get lost. He has no right to spy on us." It was Anita Skeeter, and she sounded quite miffed.

            "You know our position is precarious. Such an act would jeopardize everything." McGonagall was there too.

            "We have to play by the rules for the time being." Dumbledore's voice sounded weary. Harry held his breath as they walked closer and stood in front of the tapestry. 

            "Well, what about Harry? He told you what the letter said, and we know what kind of 'patients' this doctor's has dealt with." Skeeter must have been talking about Dr. Goody. 

            "Yes I know about the doctor," assured Dumbledore. "And I have a feeling Harry knows this man isn't a friend. Isn't that right Harry?"

            Harry felt his face turn red as he peaked out from behind his hiding place. "Good evening Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Skeeter. Pleasant weather we've been having."

            "Nice try, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall with a stern look on her face. "Shouldn't you be in your dormitory?"

            "I would love to be but I had a detention with Professor Snape and we just got done." He held out his reddened and dirty hands as proof. 

            A smile crept up on Dumbledore's face. "Assuming that you heard us now, what do you think about Dr. Goody, granted you haven't met him yet."

            "Well, I'm not too sure about him I suppose," replied Harry after a minute. "There is that part in the letter that makes me a bit wary about him."

            Dumbledore nodded when Harry finished and turned to Skeeter. "I told you he has the good doctor pegged." Dumbledore then turned back to Harry, but with an air of complete seriousness. "I do suggest that you keep your distance from the doctor. He is here to find something, and I am willing to bet Fawkes that that something has to do with you. Do you understand?"

            "Yes sir," Harry answered.

            "Good now run along. There's still class tomorrow." Dumbledore and the two other professors began their walking again, and Harry set off in the direction of the tower once again. He replayed everything that he heard. _What did Skeeter mean by Dr. Goody and his 'patients'? That can't be good._

            A few minutes later, Harry was standing in the common room telling Ron and Hermione about everything that had happened. Ron and Hermione took everything in and sat in silence once Harry finished.

            "I wonder if there is anyway to get information about this Dr. Goody, about where he works usually and his past," pondered Hermione out loud. 

            "He was probably a deatheater," Ron suggested.

            "Just because someone is potentially bad doesn't automatically mean they're a deatheater," Hermione told him.

            "I could probably ask Skeeter," Harry suggested. "She seemed to know about him, and I'm pretty she would tell me if I asked."

            "You do that and we'll go from there," agreed Hermione.

            The clock on the mantle struck midnight, and the three bid goodnight to each other and went to their dorms. Harry got into his pajamas and crawled into his bed. As he pulled back the curtains on his bed and layed down, he thought about everything that had happened. _This had to be the most bizarre day ever…_

Author's Note: Right, so I know I suck a lot because I haven't posted in a gazillion years. Terribly sorry about that. I'm a horrible human being and I don't deserve anything less than death. My life has decided to pick up in so many ways that I never could have imagined. For instance, I've produced and edited a PSA for a local Habitat for Humanity organization and it is going to be aired here in Athens. Lots of fun there. Plus the usual work excuse. Yada yada. Recently, I've been torn between stopping my fanfic and continuing. As y'all have noticed, I don't update frequently, and it's only going to get worse if I continue. Tentatively, I say that I am going to continue, but only on a trial basis. The beginning of fall semester will be the true test of this. I thank you all for your reviews of Becca's chapter (chapter 9.) They were very nice J I make no promises on my next posting, so if you want a heads up when I do, leave a review with this request and your email in it. Thanks for reading and please review. God speed, little doodle.


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